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Class _j2_L_ 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



SOME USEFUL ANIMALS 



AND 



WHAT THEY DO FOR US 



BY 

JOHN MONTEITH, M.A. 

AUTHOR OF " FAMILIAR ANIMALS," " LIVING CREATURES," ETC. 

AND 

CAROLINE MONTEITH 

PRIMARY AND ART TEACHER 



oXJ^o 



NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 



the Library of 
congress, 

Two Copies Received 

MAR 1 1903 

ft Copyrighl Entry 

cUss cu foe. No 
JTO J $ I 

COPY B, 



Copyright, 1903, by 
JOHN MONTEITH. 

Entered at Stationers' Hall, London. 



USEFUL ANIMALS. 
W. P. I 






^ 



PREFACE 

The subjects treated in this little book are pri- 
marily adapted to the use of children in the second 
and third years of progress in reading, and have in 
view a twofold object : to assist in nature study and 
to give aid in the natural and rational method of 
learning to read. The form of treatment was sug- 
gested by actual experience in the schoolroom and 
in the home circle. 

In the progress of information one of the first 
steps is to introduce the child to nature and to 
human society; in other words, to the child's en- 
vironment. The story of animals that are emphati- 
cally useful necessarily involves both nature and 
human nature, inasmuch as it requires the coopera- 
tion of animals and men to produce useful results. 
The point of view is taken in the city, where animal 
products are more in evidence, and where the larger 
number of readers is found. The road leading 
from the products to the sources of production 
always ends in the fields, forests, and waters. To 
trace this path from either end is nothing less than 
a revelation to children both of the city and of the 
country. Not one child in a thousand realizes 
where the articles of individual and community use 
come from, or what industry and sacrifice of life 
and power are involved in producing them. 

5 



As a means of conveying moral impressions, the 
useful relations of animals furnish a resource espe- 
cially rich and effectual. The dependence of ani- 
mals upon human care and their submission and 
service to a higher power and intelligence impose 
moral responsibility, and call for the exercise of 
justice and humanity on the part of their masters 
and beneficiaries. Moral lessons derived from the 
actions of animals are to children more vivid and 
engaging because animals are more ingenuous and 
dramatic than men in their ways of acting. 

As an aid to the young reader in mastering 
words and sentences, the principle is here recog- 
nized that facility in learning to read is best pro- 
moted by making interesting knowledge the primary 
object, and words subsidiary to thought. Historical 
and geographical allusions passing beyond the ex- 
perience of the child furnish his teacher or parent 
opportunities to introduce episodes of story, history, 
and earth study, which will serve to enhance in- 
terest in the subject in hand, and to create a relish 
for those regular studies yet to come with which 
animal subjects are correlated. 

While the text is fully illustrated by cuts, it is 
always well to examine the objects themselves when 
they are attainable. 

Acknowledgment is due Messrs. Small, Maynard 
& Co. for permission to use the poem from " The 
Wayfarers," entitled "Caravans," by Josephine Pres- 
ton Peabody. 



CONTENTS 



A Hunt in the House 
A Witty Game 
A Famous Lamb 
Mary's Lamb {poem) 
Everybody's Friend 
Little Boy Blue {poem) 
What the Sheep give Us 
Billy and Nanny — the Goats 

Our Cow 

A Little Professor of Cattle 
Tony finds Cattle in the City . 
The Red Man's Little Deer Cow 
How Skins are Tanned . 
The Red Man's Big Buffalo Cow 
The Arctic Man's Deer Cow 
The Arab's Camel Cow . 
Caravans (poem) .... 

Our Horse 

Our Pig 

Whose Pig is the Elephant? 
The Bonny Club's Elephant Hunt 

Wild Dogs 

Why Jack was a Dill Boy . 

Our Dof 

Dog Workers and Heroes . 

7 



Bears . 

A Bear Farm .... 

Something about Fur 

A Detective in Fur — the Ferret 

A Talk with a Furrier 

Squirrels and Children 

Hunting the Chinchilla 

Rats and Mice 

Mice as Pets .... 

Our Cat and Other Cats 

Clothes Moth and Silk Moth 

An Hour with the Bees 

Useful Singing Birds 

House Sparrow and Canary 

Fowls of the Farm 

Ostrich Farms 

Are any Animals Useless ? . 

The Pearl Makers 

Oyster and Sponge 

Diving for Sponges 

The Despised Earthworm 



r 33 

138 
142 

*45 

149 

J 54 
158 
161 
165 
167 

173 
179 
184 
190 
196 
203 
207 
215 
219 
223 
227 



SOME USEFUL ANIMALS 



A HUNT IN THE HOUSE 

i 

Are there any animals in the house ? Let us 
see if there are. 

The kitten is playing with a ball. She is an 

animal. She is all alive, 

and she moves when she 

wants to. 

Our dog, Toots, 
is sitting on the 
window sill, look- 
ing at other little 
dogs in the street. He is alive and he can move, 
for just now he jumped up to the window. 

Are these two living, jumping things 
useful ? Mary says they are, ^ 
because they please every- 
body with their pretty ways. 
They love and are loved. 
It is useful to love and to 
be loved. 

9 





10 



A plant is growing in a pot. Is the plant alive ? 
Yes, indeed. How could it grow if it were not 
alive ? Is the plant an animal ? No ; it cannot 
move from its place, as the kitten and Toots can. 
It is a vegetable. 

Is the flower pot animal or vegetable ? Why, 
no ; it is neither. It never 
was alive. It cannot move 
itself, and it does not grow. 
The pot is made of clay, 
which the miner dug from 
the ground, and the potter 
molded and then baked in a 
hot oven. The pot is mineral, 
like a stone. 



m 







ii 



There are many other things 
in the house besides the kitten, 
the dog, the plant, and the pot. 
All are dead ; but some are 
mineral, and others were once 
parts of living animals and plants. 

What are the chairs made of ? They are made 
mostly of wood that came from trees. The w r ood 
in the chairs is vegetable ; the nails, screws, and 
springs in the seat are mineral. The covers of 
the backs and the cushions may be animal. 



II 

One kind of chair cover is made of wool. This 
grows on the sheep's body. Another cover is made 
of silk. This is w r oven from fine thread spun by 
silkworms. Still another cover is leather, made 
from the cow's skin. 

The pillows on the couch may have silk or 
woolen covers ; but the covers are filled with soft 
feathers taken from ducks and geese. 

in 

Animals have done a great deal for the furniture 
of the house. Let us keep on with the hunt. 

Turn to the bookcase. The shelves, of course, 
are vegetable, because 
they are wooden. The 
books, too, are vege- 
table. The paper in 
them is made from 
wood. The cloth covers are from cotton and flax 
plants. The books appear to be all vegetable 
matter. 

Wait a minute! Some of the books are covered 
with leather. This is animal, too, and is from 
sheepskin, calfskin, or goatskin. Find a book with 
the cover nearly off. 

Something sticky held the leaves and the cover 
together. This is animal again ; it is glue, and is 




12 

made from the skins, bones, and feet of sheep, 
cows, and dogs. 

Open the piano. The black keys are of wood. 
And the white keys, what are they ? They are 
ivory from the elephant's tusks. Look within, at 
the wire strings. Are they animal ? Notice the 
soft leather on the hammers that strike the strings. 
It is sheepskin. 

Here is the sheep again, helping the elephant, 
and the living fingers of another animal, to make 
music in the house. 

IV 

What are the carpets and rugs on the floor ? 
Sheep and wool again — all animal. Feel of your 
outside clothes. Thank the sheep for them. And 
your shoes ? Thank the ox, the calf, the sheep, 
and the £oat for them. 

Now, down into the pockets ! A purse ! You 
can tell whether the money in it (if you find any) is 
animal, vegetable, or mineral. But the purse itself 
is animal. Can you tell why ? 

Has the pig done anything to furnish the house ? 
On the table there may be a fine book, covered 
with pigskin. But go to the bedroom, the bath- 
room, and the kitchen. The tooth brushes, the 
hand brushes, the scrub brushes, and the shoe 
brushes are all made of pigs' hair. 



13 

The pig is called a dirty animal, but it has done 
more than any other animal to keep the house 
clean. 

The dining table will make you think of many 
animals that help the household. These you may 
hunt for yourself. Then take a pen and write 




down the names of all the animals that help to 
make the household comfortable and happy. 

Now ask the ink you are writing with where it 
comes from. With the help of a pen and three 
fingers the ink will write : " I come from a gallnut 
that grows where a little fly stings an oak tree." 

A WITTY GAME 

Here is a simple game, sometimes played by 
children, which not only pleases them but helps to 



14 

sharpen their wits. The name of the game is 
" Comey-comey," but nobody knows how it came by 
this name. 

The children are seated in a row or circle. They 
choose a leader, whom they strangely call " It." 
Then It thinks of some one thing in the room or 
out of doors, and the rest of the company are to 
guess what the thing is. 

Each child, in turn, can ask three or more ques- 
tions, or make as many guesses as the company 
may order. The one who guesses right is to be 
the next It. The first letter of the thing to be 
guessed is spoken by It; and one of the first ques- 
tions asked is whether the thing is animal, vegetable, 
or mineral. 

The game may go on in this way : — 

It (calls out). — Comey-comey ! 

No. i. — What do you come by? 

It. — I come by P. 

No. 2. — Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral? 

It. — It is animal. 

No. 3. — Is it the paper (newspaper) on the table ? 

It. — No. The paper is made of wood, which is 
vegetable. 

No. 4. — Is it the plant in the flower pot ? 

It. — No, that is vegetable. 

No. 5. — O ! I know what it is. It's the pot ! 




i5 

It. — Wrong again. The pot is mineral. 

No. 6. (clapping hands) — I've got it ! Is it the 
pen ? 

It. — Why, no. The pen is mineral. 

No. 7. — Dear me ! I never can guess the thing. 

No. 8. — Is it on the 
table ? 

It. — Yes. 

No. 9. — Is it that picture ? 

It. — No. The picture is 
paper, and is vegetable. 

No. 10. — Is it the pen- 
wiper ^ Penwiper of Wool 

It. — Yes. The penwiper is made of wool, and 
wool grows on the body of the sheep, which is 
animal. 

A FAMOUS LAMB 

1 

Almost a hundred years ago there lived in 
Massachusetts a little girl whose name was Mary. 
Her home was on a farm, and her father kept 
sheep. When Mary was old enough she attended 
the village school. The schoolhouse was almost as 
plain and rude as a barn. 

At home, Mary had a pet lamb. She fed it and 
loved it, and the lamb followed her about like a pet 



i6 



dog. One day, as she was starting for school, 
her brother Nate got her to take the lamb along. 
When the two reached the schoolhouse, Mary put 
the lamb under her desk. There, the little woolly 

visitor quietly slept 
until Mary was called 
out to recite. Then 
the lamb trotted after 
its mistress ; and so 
strange and sudden 
was the sight that the 
whole school was in 
an uproar. 

The teacher, Miss 

Polly Kimball, was 

amused, and smiled. 

How could she help 

it ? The children 

giggled, and laughed 

out loud. How could 

they help it ? Mary was the only serious one, for 

she felt very sad. She felt she had done something 

that was not right. 

ii 

After Mary grew to be a woman, she told how 
the school got out of this merry trouble over a 
harmless bit of a sheep. 




D&ESOJT 



17 

" It was rare sport for the children," she said, 
"but I couldn't see anything funny in it. I was 
too much ashamed to laugh or even to smile at 
my sheep out on the floor. So I took the lamb 
out and put it in a shed until I was ready to go 
home ; and I thought I would go home at noon 
that day." 

On that very day when the lamb came out to 
recite with the class there was a bright young man 
visiting the school. He was as much pleased as the 
children were. The next day he rode over to the 
schoolhouse and put in Mary's hand a slip of paper 
on which he had written three verses. 

in 

Some years afterwards a lady in Philadelphia 
added two verses more. Then the little poem was 
printed, and went abroad to touch the hearts of 
thousands of people, young and old. This was long 
after the lamb was dead. 

Yes, Mary's little schoolmate of one half day did 
not live long. It met a cruel death. It was killed 
by the horns of an ugly cow. But its snow-white 
fleece was saved and was made into stockings. 

Seventy years after, the stockings were raveled. 
The yarn was made into rosettes with Mary's name 
in her own hand attached. These were sold at a 

MONT. ANIMALS— 2 



church fair in Boston, and brought seven hundred 
dollars. So this fleecy lover was useful long after 
he was dead and gone. 

And what became of Mary? She came to be a 
school teacher, but it is certain that no lamb ever 
entered her schoolroom. By and by she was 
married, and then her name was Mrs. Tyler. 

She was a great favorite with the children in the 
town, who called her " Aunt Mary." Mrs. Tyler 
lived to be eighty-three years old. 

MARY'S LAMB 

Mary had a little lamb. 

Its fleece was white as snow ; 
And everywhere that Mary went, 

The lamb was sure to go. 

He followed her to school one day — 
Which was against the rule ; 

It made the children laugh and play, 
To see a lamb at school. 

So the teacher turned him out, 

But still he lingered near, 
And waited patiently about 

Till Mary did appear. 

Then he ran to her and laid 
His head upon her arm, 



19 

As if he said, " I'm not afraid, — 
You'll keep me from all harm." 

" What makes the lamb love Mary so ? " 

The eager children cry. 
" Oh, Mary loves the lamb, you know," 

The teacher did reply. 

EVERYBODY'S FRIEND 

i 

Sheep have always kept close to men, just as the 
lamb followed Mary everywhere. They are timid 
creatures, and cannot fight against their enemies. 

A sheep is about as large as a Newfoundland 
dog. But it has no long fighting teeth, as the dog 
has, and no sharp claws to climb and scratch with, 
as the cat has. It cannot run up a tree, nor into a 
hole in the ground. 

Some human friend must take care of the sheep. 
Should a flock of sheep become frightened, al! they 
can do is to huddle together, and then run away, as 
little girls do when they are scared. If a dog 
chases them, they can only run, and most likely one 
of them will be caught. 

This human friend must make a pasture for the 
sheep, where they can be safe and can eat grass. 
When they have eaten enough grass they want to lie 



20 



down and chew their cud as cows do. In winter, 
they need a shed to keep off the storm, and hay, oats, 
-beans, and turnips to eat. If sheep could talk, they 
would say to the men and boys, " Now you take care 
of us, and drive away the wolves and mischievous 




dogs that come to steal our lambs and kill us. Then 
we will give you our wool to keep you warm." 

So in the old stories the sheep and the shepherd 
are always together. The shepherd may be* the 
Hebrew boy David, who killed the lion and the 
bear that were after his flock. Or the shepherd may 
be an English boy, like Little Boy Blue, who grew 
tired, while watching the sheep, and fell fast asleep. 



21 




Cow's Hair 



Men found it good for themselves to make friends 
of their woolly neighbors. Long ago, men had their 
eyes open, and they saw that what was good for a 
sheep's coat was just as good for a man's coat. Wool 
is better than cotton oi- 
lmen to make clothes 
of, because it prevents 
the heat of the body 
from escaping. 

It is easy to make 
cloth of wool. Take a 
pinch of dog's hair or 
cow's hair and try to make the hairs stick together. 
They fall apart because they are so straight. But 
the sheep's wool is full of curls, or kinks. It 
holds fast together when it is pinched or rolled. 
So wool is sometimes rolled into cloth, and the 

cloth is made into 
felt hats. 

When Johnny's 
grandfather was a 
boy, it took a lono- 
time and much hard 
work to get the wool 
from a sheep's back 
In the month of May 




and put it on a boy's back. 



22 




the sheep were driven to a brook or pond to have 

their fleeces washed. 
When their fleeces 
were dry, the sheep 
were sheared. There 
was no fun in this for 
the sheep. Each one 
was held between a 
man's knees until its 
fleece was taken off 

with a pair of shears. The fleece was then sent to 

a mill where it was combed into long rolls. Each 

roll was about as big 

around as a man's 

finger. 

in 
When the wool 

came back in rolls, 

Aunt Susan got out 

her spinning wheel. 

With her right hand 

she turned a big 

wheel that turned a 

little wheel. She put 

the roll on the little 

wheel, which spun with a buzzing noise, and soon 

twisted the roll into yarn. 




23 

When one roll was twisted, Aunt Susan pinched 
another roll on the end of it. After a while she had 
on the spindle a string of yarn that was hundreds 
of feet long. This was unwound, put into skeins, 
and sent to the weaver's, where it was woven into 
cloth. 

But the weaver left the cloth loose and dirty. 
Then it had to go to another mill, where it was 
pounded and washed in soap suds until it was firm 
and clean. After that the cloth was dried and 
pressed. It was then made into a roll and sent 
back to the farm. 

There was joy in the house when the roll of cloth 
came from the mill. But the cloth must be made 
into clothes. So the roll had to take another journey. 
It went to the tailor, who with his tape measured 
the father and the boys, and with his shears cut 
the cloth to fit them. 

When the cloth came home again, Mamma, 
Grandma, and Aunt Susan all went to work and 
sewed winter suits for Papa and the boys. 

But some of the yarn had been left for Grandma 
to knit into stockings. And Grandma was happy. 
By the bright blazing fire she sat knitting and sing- 
ing, while with her foot she rocked the baby's cradle. 

Is it any wonder that the sheep and the family 
were good friends ? 



24 




LITTLE BOY BLUE 

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn ; 

The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. 

Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep ? 

He's under the haycock, fast asleep. 

Will you wake him? " No, not I ; 

For if I do, he'll be sure to cry." 

WHAT THE SHEEP GIVE US 



Very long ago, before sheep . and wool were 
known, from what did savage people make their 
clothes ? At first garments were formed from the 
leaves of plants ; afterward from the bark of trees. 
People who lived in cold climates had to kill wild 
animals for food ; and from the skins of these ani- 
mals they made cloaks to keep themselves warm. 



25 



They could not shear the hair of deer, wolves, 
or rabbits. And if they could, they were not able 

to spin hair into yarn, or 

& weave yarn into cloth. 

So they had to kill the 

animals and strip off 

their skins with 

§| the hair on. 

ii Whatabless- 

f ;/) ing is the sheep ! 

It need not be 

killed to get its 

fleece. The shears 

take off the wool and 

>" leave the sheep alive. It 

will be more comfortable in the hot sun without 

its thick coat, and when May comes again, it will 

have another fleece. 




ii 



It is hard to think how many a million is; still 
harder to think of fifty millions. But we have in 
our great country more than fifty million sheep, and 
they give us in one year as many as three pounds 
of wool for every man, woman, and child. If all 
these sheep had to be killed, what should we do for 
clothes next year? 



26 

The female sheep is called the ewe. She has a 
fleece to give us, and she also gives milk for her two 
lambs. When the lambs are old enough to eat 
grass, the ewe may go on giving milk for her keeper. 
The male sheep, or ram, often has his head crowned 
with horns, which roll up in graceful curls. 

From its small size and very small legs, one can 
see that the sheep cannot bear burdens or draw r 
loads. 

The sheep has a very little foot with two claws of 
horn. But its body is round and plump, and gives 
us mutton for food. When the sheep is killed for 
mutton, its skin is made into leather. 

in 

Grandma used to spend a whole week in knitting 
a pair of stockings. In these days we have ma- 
chines to spin, knit, and weave the sheep's wool. 
With knitting machines one woman can make over 
one hundred pairs of stockings in a day. Other 
machines weave cloth and sew garments made of 
cloth. 

The wonders of wool are everywhere in the house. 
It seems as if some fairy with her wand had touched 
the rough, dirty coat of the sheep and changed the 
wool into all these useful and beautiful things. 

Wool is stuffed into beds and cushions. It is 



27 

woven into tablecloths, rugs, and carpets ; and made 
into hats, coats, trousers, waists, skirts, underclothes, 
stockings, and blankets. It has even been ground 
up and sprinkled over the wall paper. 

Where in the house is the sheep's milk? It is 
in the storeroom and on the table. It has been 
changed into the dainty Rochefort cheese. Now 
we shall see what is done with sheep after they 
are killed. 

The skin without the wool is tanned. It then 
becomes leather. The flesh is mutton, and mutton 
forms a large part of the meat we eat. In the city 
of New York thousands of sheep are used for food 
every day. They are cut into legs, loins, and chops. 
There is also a great deal of fat which is melted into 
tallow. This goes to make candles and soap. 

IV 

Leather made of sheepskin is passed through a 
machine which splits it and makes two skins from 
one. These are nicely dressed and colored. Of 
these split skins, are made the tops and linings of 
shoes, doll skins, dog collars, ball covers, purses, 
bags, and belts. 

And what is the shammy skin with which the 
furniture is dusted and polished ? It is thin leather 
from the sheep. We also have trunk covers, furni- 



28 

ture covers, book covers, and gloves — all made of 
sheepskin. Before paper was known books were 
written on hard, dry sheepskin, called parchment. 

The horns of the ram are not thrown away. So 
long ago as when David tended sheep, the ram's horn 
was used for a trumpet to call an army to battle. 
To-day the horns are turned into snuff boxes and 
handles, or with the hoofs on the feet are made into 
glue. 

No part of the sheep is wasted. The ears are 
boiled into glue. The bones are ground into 
powder which is spread over the fields to make the 
crops grow. The intestines are twisted into strings 
for the violin and the guitar. 

So the sheep gives us clothes while it is alive, 
and helps to make music after it is dead. 




29 



BILLY AND NANNY — THE GOATS 



Goats are cousins of the sheep. This means that 
goats are in some ways like sheep. It also means 
that they are not wholly like sheep. 

In some countries goats are raised in large com- 
panies, or herds, and roam in the fields ; but in 
our country they are usually animals of the town. 
Only two or 
three run to- 
gether. Farm- 
ers do not 
like them. So 
the farm boy 
knows sheep, 
but rarely sees 
a goat. The 
town boy often knows goats, but does not often 
see a sheep. 

Sheep are timid and are seldom petted. They 
have no pet names. But goats run about town, and 
are led by halters, or are tied to keep them from 
mischief. They slip through the gate into the yard. 
They even step into the kitchen and turn things over. 
Girls and boys play with them, hitch them to carts, 
and call the male "Billy" and the female "Nanny." 




_-- — - **f^L* 



30 

They are not so large as sheep. Their bodies 
are not so round and fat. Their coat is hair, with 
a little wool under the hair. Both Billy and Nanny 
have horns, and they are not afraid to use them. 
There is fun and play in goats, though a long beard 
under the chin gives them a serious look. 

Billy and Nanny have horny hoofs. With these 
they stamp on the ground, when boys plague them, 
as if to tell the boys to behave themselves. Having 
learned what use is made of the sheep's horns and 
hoofs, it is easy to tell what the goat's horns and 
hoofs are good for after the goat is dead. 

Billy and Nanny eat a little grass, which they 
swallow without chewing. When they lie down to 
rest, the grass comes up from the stomach in small 
lumps. After chewing the lumps fine they swallow 
them again. For this reason goats, like cows, deer, 
and camels, are called cud chewers. 

Our goats are careless about what they eat. They 
nibble grass, but they would as soon eat flowers, 
rose bushes, the clothes hanging on the line, or the 
clothesline itself. They also relish a bit of news- 
paper, a bill posted on the fence, an old hat, or an 

old shoe. 

ii 

It is certain that goats can live where sheep 
would starve. Therefore goats may be useful in 



3i 

the town or among the mountains where there is 
little food. Sheep are dull and stupid. Goats are 
bright and smart. The mischief they make shows 
that they may be trained to pleasing and useful 
work. 

While Billy is a kid, he can be trained to per- 
form tricks. A pole is set in the ground, with a 
bit of board nailed on the top. Billy will run up 
some steps and stand on the top of the pole, with 
his four feet in a bunch. Kids are trained to dance 
to music ; to wear bit and bridle ; and, as they grow 
larger, to draw wagons. 

In Central Park, New York City, is a beautiful, 
paved street, shaded by large trees. This street is 
called "The Mall." Here on any pleasant day may 
be seen little carriages — very tiny they are — drawn 
by well-behaved goats. 

Some of the carriages have two goats hitched to 
them, and some have four. All are in harness and 
are driven just as horses are, with bits and reins. 
By paying a nickel each, children get a merry ride 
behind the nimble Billies and Nannies. 

There are some good things to say about Nanny. 
She will fight for her kids and will learn to work, 
if necessary. But the best thing she does is to 
give milk. It costs little to feed her, and many a 
poor family is blessed with her milk. She is a good 



32 

friend of babies and sick people, because her milk is 
so helpful to them. 

In Europe the goats are larger than those we see 
about us. There Nanny is often kept and fed for 
her milk. She sometimes gives as much milk as a 
small cow. In some cities she is a walking lunch 
stand. A little boy draws her milk and sells it by 
the glassful to people passing by. 

In the mountains of Switzerland goats carry 
burdens on their backs, over steep and dangerous 
places where horses cannot go. Here the little 
horny feet do their best work. Here the goats are 
the only milk givers that can pick a living among 
the rocks. Here the people have plenty of goats' 
milk and from it make excellent cheese. 

in 

There is yet another use for Billy and Nanny 
while they are living. Their coats may be taken 
off with the shears, as sheep's wool is shorn. The 
hair is made into ropes and cloth. The wool under 
the hair is spun into yarn. The yarn is woven into 
rugs, shawls, and silky lace. 

These finer articles are made from the long, 
curly fleeces of beautiful goats that live in the 
colder part of Asia. The shawls are called Cash- 
mere shawls, because that name is given to one 



33 



kind of goats. It takes a large family more than 
a year to make one pair of shawls. But the shawls 
are worth three thousand dollars. The most beauti- 
ful of the silky-haired goats is the Angora of Asia. 
Thousands of this kind are raised in our country. 

Goats, like sheep, are often killed for their flesh. 
This is not so good as mutton ; but the flesh of 
kids is liked, and is pleasant 
to the taste. 

Goatskin, when pre- 
pared with the hair on, 
is used for rugs. When 
the skin is tanned in- 
to leather, it is firmer 
and finer than sheep- 
skin. It is called morocco, 
because very long ago goat 
leather was made onlv in the state of Morocco, in 
Africa. 

Morocco is clved different colors, and is made 
into slippers, women's and children's shoes, and 
book covers. Kidskin makes the finest leather and 
the finest gloves. Two pairs of gloves are cut out 
of a single skin. To make the leather very soft and 
easily stretched, the kids are allowed to feed on 
nothing but milk. 

In Asia, a very different use is found for goat- 

MONT. ANIMALS — 3 




34 

skin. The skins are pulled off nearly whole from 
the bodies of the dead animals. Then the holes 
made by the legs are sewed up. 

In this way bottles are made — bottles that do 
not break. They hold water, milk, or wine. The 
Turks and Arabs use skin bottles, while traveling, 
and for their soldiers while on the march. 

Now you may make up a report about Billy and 
Nanny. Set down against them the mischiefs they 
do. Then make a list of their credits : How many 
things they do to please people, young and old ; 
how many good things living goats do ; and how 
many useful things come from dead goats. 

OUR COW 

i 

One morning the family had just sat down to 
breakfast. When Mrs. Burns began to pour the 
cream into the coffee cups, she said, " Mary, where 
do cream and milk come from ? " 

Mary looked up. She was surprised. " Why, I 
don't know," she said. "Oh, yes, I do — it comes 
from a bottle. I've seen Jane pour the milk out. 
The cream is on the top, and she pours that out first." 

" Why, Mary ! " cried Johnny, " you're a dunce ! 
Don't you know that milk comes from cows ? A 
bottle isn't a cow." 



35 



Mary confessed that she must have known this, 
but had never thought about it before. She blushed 
a little as she thought how stupid was her answer 
to her mother's question. Mrs. Burns saw this and 
said : — 

" Not too fast, Johnny ; perhaps we are all dunces. 
Neither you nor Mary knows where half the things 
we eat and wear come from. I've been reading in 
the newspaper that most of the children in large 
cities do not know where milk comes from, and 
have never seen a cow. Have you ever seen a 
cow, Johnny ? " 

" No," answered Johnny, in a mild voice, " I have 
never seen a cow that 
I remember, but I've HfHI 

read about cows and 
seen their pictures." 

" So you have," said 
his mother. " Now tell 
me how large a cow is." 

" She is as large as 
a big dog," Johnny answered, as if he knew it all. 

" Oh, Johnny ! " said his mother, " where did you 
get such an idea ? I've been buying books about 
animals for you and Mary, and now I see I must 
help the books." 

Johnny told how he got his idea. In one of his 




36 

books there were two pictures near together; one 

was of a cow, the other of a Saint Bernard dog. 

The pictures were of the same size. He had seen 

dogs of this kind. So he thought a cow was as 

large as a big dog. 

ii 

The next year after this talk about cows, the 
Burns family went into the farming country to 
spend the summer. Before this, the children had 
always been taken to the seaside, where they saw 
neither country crops nor country animals. 

As soon as they reached Mr. Grant's farm, the 
children ran to the pasture to see the cows. Tony 
Grant had gone on an errand, and they could not 
wait for him to return and lead them. ■ 

Johnny wanted to climb over the fence and go 
among the animals, but Mary said, " No ; they 
have gentle, lovely eyes, but those horns are terrible, 
and they might hurt us." The children had seen 
hundreds of horses, and now they found that cows 
are as large though not so high as horses. 

" There ! " cried Mary, as they looked between 
the rails of the fence, " you're as much of a dunce 
as I. The cow is as big as ten big dogs." 

When Tony came home he took his visitors to 
the yard where the cows were milked. The cows 
were chewing their cud, and with their long tails 



37 

were switching the flies from their backs. Two 
men and two women sat down by the animals and 
began the milking. 

Before the cows were milked, their udders, now 
very full, were washed with a sponge and cold 
water. The milkmaids, while milking, sang songs 



,_, - - 







to make the cows happy ; for cows, if they feel 
uneasy, often hold back their milk. 

By and by the calves were let out of their pens 
to get a share of their mothers' milk. They wagged 
their tails to tell how happy they were. And the 
cows, with their long, rough tongues, licked the 
hair of their babies to make it smooth and to 
show their love. 



38 

III 

When the children returned to the house they 
found Mr. Grant, wearing a large straw hat, sit- 
ting on the porch. Mrs. Burns had told him how 
little the children knew T about animals, and he 
was ready to talk with them, as soon as they were 
introduced. 

" You see," he said with a smile, " that a cow is 
bigger than a big dog, don't you, Master Johnny ? " 

" Yes, indeed," answered Johnny ; " as big as ten 
big dogs." 

" Not quite. A large sheep is about as big as a 
Saint Bernard dog. A cow is eight times as large 
as a sheep, and twenty-five times as large as a billy 
goat. You know something of goats. We don't 
keep them, they are such little rascals on the farm. 
But you saw that cows are in some ways like goats 
and sheep." 

" Yes, sir," said Johnny; " all eat grass and chew 

■ the cud, have horns and split hoofs, 

■ 1 and give milk." 

M L "Right!" said Mr. Grant; "but you 

J^ mk saw ^ ia ^ our ^ ac ^ cow has no horns. 

i ^m ^ e ca ^ suc h a cow a ' m uley.' You 

^^_Jj3 saw, too, that a cow has four nipples 

on her milk bag; the sheep and goat have but 

two." 



39 

" Do tell us all about cows, please do, Mr. Grant," 
said Mary. " We've been trying to learn from our 
books." 

IV 

" It is well to learn from books," said Mr. Grant, 
" but it is better to learn from the cows themselves. 
I can tell you only a few things now. The cow is 
a wonderful machine. She eats grass and turns it 
into milk. 

" You people in the city must have milk as well 
as we farmers. You need it for your tea and 
coffee, and for your cakes and puddings ; and above 
all for the babies to drink. Do you know how 
many cows have to be milked every day for your 
great city ? " 

" No, sir," said Mary, " but I should think a great 
many hundreds." 

11 Hundreds ! " said Mr. Grant. " Why, it takes 
nearly a hundred and fifty thousand cows to give 
your great city one day's milk. It takes a million 
men and women to milk all the cows in the country. 
If it rains hard, you may stay at home from school ; 
but the cows must be milked, morning and evening, 
rain or shine." 

Turning to Mary, Mr. Grant said, " I suppose you 
could get along without sheep for a year, couldn't 
you ? You could wear your old clothes." 



40 

"I don't see how we could," answered Mary; "it 
would be dreadful ! " 

" Yes, you could, if you had to," said the farmer. 
" But the people could not get along without the 
cow's milk for even one day. Not only would the 
babies cry, but the old folks would cry too. 

" In the whole United States there is by count 
one cow for every four people. This animal is not 
mine alone, but everybody's — the rich man's cow, 
the poor man's cow, the old man's cow, and the 
baby's cow. 

" I haven't told you of the butter and cheese made 
from the cow's milk. Trainloads of these are sent 
every day to the cities. Shiploads of them go 
abroad to other countries. Anthony (Tony, we call 
him) will take you to the creamery where butter is 
made, and to the factory where cheese is made. 

" When I was a boy each farmer made his own 
cheese. It took all the fresh milk of one farm to 
make one cheese, which was pressed under a heavy 
stone. Now, the milk of many farms is taken every 
day to a factory, where the cheese is made by 
machinery." 

The children had many more lively talks with 
this clever farmer. Even Tony learned much that 
he did not know before. And for all the children 
there were many things yet to learn. 



4i 



A LITTLE PROFESSOR OF CATTLE 

i 

One bright morning in October Mary Burns 
was looking out at the window when she saw, com- 
ing up the steps, a boy about ten years old. " Why, 
if there isn't Tony Grant!" she cried. "Johnny, 
Johnny! here is Tony!" 

Her brother left his bicycle, which he was fixing, 
and the two rushed to the door. They shook both 
of Tony's hands and told him how well he looked. 
Tony smiled and blushed as he said, " I thought I 
never would get here." 

Then Tony, who had never been in the city 
before, described the hard time he had trying to get 
uptown. A friend had put him on a street car and 
told him to get off at One Hundred and Fifteenth 
Street. He counted the streets crossed, but counted 
wrong, and stopped at One Hundredth Street. Then 
he took another car and went ten blocks too far. 

" I was frightened when I got off the car," said 
Tony, "for I thought the wagons and bicycles 
would run over me. I don't like cities much. They 
are so noisy and close. I don't see how you can 
breathe or sleep." 

The children laughed, and then Mary almost 
cried. "You poor boy!" she said, "they ought 



42 

never to have let you come alone. Come right in, 
and we will make you happy. We had such a 
lovely time at your home last summer." 

ii 

Mrs. Burns soon came downstairs and made the 
little country boy feel at home. She had invited 
Tony to visit Johnny and Mary before the pleasant 
October was gone. The children, she said, would 
take him to the parks and museums, and show him 
the ocean steamships. 

"And then," she added, " we have been learning 
and reading about cows and cattle since we came 
back from your fathers farm, and you can help us. 
You know so much about these things." 

" Yes," said Tony, " I know all about cows, but 
I don't know anything about street cars and cities. 
I counted a hundred and fourteen streets, and that 
didn't get me here." 

The children laughed again ; but Mrs. Burns told 
Tony that grown people make as great mistakes, and 
then Tony felt better. 

ni 

At the dinner table, when the soup was served, 
Mrs. Burns said : " Here, Tony, is something to 
make you think of cattle. This is ox-tail soup." 

" Ox-tail soup ! " cried Tony ; " I never heard of 



43 

such a thing. We don't make soup of cattle tails. 
The tails always go along with the hides." 

" Not always," said Mrs. Burns ; " the butchers 
get some of them. But here comes the roast beef. 
This is from the cow, isn't it ? " 




" No, ma'am, I think not," said Tony ; " I guess 
the beef is steer's meat. If the cows were killed 
for beef, where would we get milk ? " 

Tony had started a new idea, for his young 
friends thought both milk and beef came from 



44 

cows. Finally Johnny asked, " What is a steer ? 
You never said anything about steers when we 
were at your farm." 

" No, because we haven't any. Why, a steer," 
said Tony, laughing at Johnny's ignorance, " a 
steer is nothing but a young ox. You know what 
an* ox is, don't you ? " 

" Yes," said Mary ; " we've been hunting a good 
deal after oxen." 

" And you have found a piece of a young ox right 
here on the table," said Mr. Burns. " Really, this is 
a nice little farmers' college, and we have with us a 
little Professor of Cattle." Tony grew red in the 
face now, when the children called him professor. 

At last, ice cream and lemon jelly were brought 
to the table. " Surely," said Mrs. Burns, " you must 
say that something from the cow is coming now." 
" Oh, yes, ma'am ; ice cream is made of milk and 
cream. My mother makes it for Fourth of July 
and picnics." 

" Is there anything else from the cow or from the 
steer in ice cream and lemon jelly ? " Mrs. Burns 
asked. " There's sugar and something they call 
' extract,' " answered Tony. " But I don't see how 
there can be anything from the cow in the jelly. 
There's no milk or cream in it." 

" We will let the ice cream and jelly pass now," 



45 



said Mrs. Burns, with a sly glance at Johnny and 
Mary. Then all went upstairs into the sitting 
room. Tony felt that there was still something 
about ice cream and jelly that he did not understand. 



IV 



Mary played a lively tune on the piano. Then 
her mother asked, " Now, children, what were you 
learning about before Tony came ? " 

" It was about oxen — how they draw heavy loads, 
and pull plows and 
heavy logs," answered 
Johnny. 

" That is right," 
said his mother; "and 
I told you that two 
oxen are joined to- 
gether by a wooden 

yoke resting on their necks. A long, heavy chain 
reaches from the yoke to the wagon or plow. Tony, 
does your father use oxen ? " 

" No, ma'am ; he did work oxen several years ago, 
but now he uses only horses for work." 

" Do you ever use cows for work on the farm ? " 
asked Mrs. Burns. 

" Why, no," answered Tony, in surprise ; " I never 
heard of such a funny thing as making cows work." 




4 6 

" Then you have something yet to learn about 
cows," said Mrs. Burns. " Here are some pictures 
that will show you how oxen and cows are made to 
work in Germany and Austria. 

" Heavy straps of leather are fastened around 
their foreheads. The animals pull with their heads. 
Our oxen pull with their shoulders. Sometimes a 
single ox is fastened to a wagon. And a cow is 
often made to w r ork in the same way. She fre- 
quently draws a wagon that is loaded partly with 
her own milk." 

The little professor found that he did not know 
all about cows, though he lived on a farm. But 
Tony was tired. He had been to see the sights all 
day long, and was quite ready to go to bed and 
dream of the cattle at his quiet country home. 



TONY FINDS CATTLE IN THE CITY 

i 

Tony Grant found the big city a real school. 
Every minute while he was awake he was learning 
something. Just now, while waiting for dinner, he 
is standing on the curbstone looking at everything 
going on in the street. 

While Mary is watching Tony, she says softly to 
her mother, " Mamma, I've been thinking that 



47 

country children don't know any more about 
country things than city children know about city 
things." 

" You are right, my dear/' said her mother ; 
" most people know little of the things that are just 
around them, and we shall soon see how many 
uses of cattle are new to Tony." 

After dinner and a little music from Mary's fin- 
gers, all went to the library where Mr. Burns was 
reading his newspaper. " We are now to learn 
about cattle after they are killed," said Mrs. Burns. 
" What is the first thing to be done after a cow or 
steer is killed ? " 

" Take his hide off," said Tony, quickly. 

" You call a large skin a hide," said Mrs. Burns. 
" Now what is done with the hide ? " 

" It is rolled up and sold to a man who takes it to 
a tanner, and the tanner makes it into leather," said 
Tony. The little professor was now getting near 
the end of his knowledge. 

" What is done with the hair on the skin, Tony ? " 

" I don't know. I never thought of that," an- 
swered the farm boy. " I suppose they scrape it off 
and throw it away." 

Mary clapped her hands and laughed. " Now, 
Tony," she said, " we've got the start of you. Look 
right over there on the corner where that new 




4 8 

building is going up. The other day we saw the 
men there mixing cattle hair with the mortar which 
they were going to plaster the wall with. The hair 
makes the mortar stick together." 

" And what is done with the leather ? " asked 
Mrs. Burns. 

" Oh, the leather is made into boots 
and shoes for men," said Tony. 

" What are your shoes made of, 
Tony ? " Mrs. Burns then asked. 
" Mine are made of calfskin. Cow- 
hide is too stiff for boys' shoes." 

ii 

Just then Mr. Burns laid down his newspaper 
and, looking very pleasant, said : " I shall have to 
take a hand in this leather business, for I have 
a large shoe factory which the children will show 
you, Tony. I use a great deal of leather. Let 
me see your shoe." 

Mr. Burns felt of Tony's shoe. " When you 
bought those shoes you were perhaps told that they 
were calfskin, but they are not, though the leather 
is thin. They are of cowhide or steerhide." 

" How can that be, papa," asked Johnny, " when 
those hides are so thick ? They are used for the 
soles of shoes." 




49 

" That is true, Johnny," said Mr. Burns ; " but 
after the cowhides or steerhides are tanned for 
leather, they are put into a machine that splits 
them, as I am splitting this pasteboard with my 
knife. In this way one thick hide is split into four 
or five thin sheets of leather." 

" Why, papa ! " cried Mary, " why did you never 
tell us this before ? " 

" Because I never thought you would care to 
know. Some of the split sheets are 
made smooth and black on one side 
for shoes. Some are made rough, 
or pebbled, and are used for car- 
riage tops. Others are covered with a hard, shiny 
surface, for patent-leather shoes, and for harness 
and carriage trimmings." 

" Now, Johnny," said Mrs. Burns, " tell Tony 
some articles that are made of leather." 

"Well," Johnny said, "the chair Tony is sitting 
on is covered with it, and his shoes are made of it. 
The harness on the horses, and the belts men wear 
are also made of leather. I think Mary's belt is 
cowhide." 

" No, indeed ! Some belts are, but mine is not. 
It is morocco," said Mary. "And you forgot, 
Johnny, to speak of the blacksmith's apron which 
we saw when we were visiting Tony." 

MONT. ANIMALS — 4 



50 

in 

" Yes, Mary," said her mother, smiling, " and you, 
perhaps, have forgotten some things too. Leather 
does a great deal to move the machinery in 
mills. You know what the chain on your bicycle 
does. In the same way, in the mills, leather belts 
help big wheels to turn little wheels. And you, 
Mary, forgot to speak of Uncle Sam's mail bags." 

" So you see, Tony," said Mrs. Burns, " that cow- 
hide in the city is tramping about on a half million 
feet ; trotting on the backs of horses ; riding with 
the carriages, and moving the machines. Leather 
is almost as lively as the living skin on your cows' 
backs." 

Tony opened his eyes wide, but was silent. He 
was thinking. 

" Now, Mary," said Mrs. Burns, " it is your turn. 
Can you tell what is done with the steer's body after 
the skin is taken off ? Some day you may have 
charge of a kitchen of your own, and you will need 
to know these things." 

Mary began to count on her fingers : " The body 
is cut up into roasts, and steaks, and pieces for 
corned beef and for soup. Beef's liver, kidneys, and 
heart are good food. The calves, after their skins 
are taken for fine leather, give us veal, calf's-head 
mold, and calf's-foot jelly." 



5i 

" How about ice cream and lemon jelly? " Johnny 
asked with a laugh. 

" Be still, Johnny ! you spoil my counting," said 
Mary, bluntly. " The nice fat, or suet, is used for 
cooking. The rough fat is melted into tallow, and 
all the scraps go for soap. Mamma's grandmother 
used to make . tallow candles. The skins of 
the bowels are nicely prepared and are used 
for covering Bologna sausages." 

IV 

"And now, Master John," said Mrs. Burns, "I will 
explain your lemon jelly. Calf's-foot jelly thickens 
itself. But the feet, the skin on the head, and other 
pieces of skin are soaked and pounded into a paste. 
When this is dry it becomes gelatin. 

This gelatin is mixed with fruit juice, and turns 
the juice to jelly. A little is put into ice cream to 
make it smooth and to hold it together. Are there 
any other useful things that come from cattle ? " 
Mrs. Burns asked. 

" Oh, yes, many, many things," said Mr. Burns. 
" I will leave you to find out all the useful and nice 
articles that are made of the horns and bones. I see 
one of them fastening Mary's collar. In South 
America the cowboys use the cattle's skulls with the 
horns on for chairs." 



52 

" There's the glue in the chairs and furniture," 
cried Johnny. 

" The hair in the plaster and paper of the walls," 
added Mary. " And look at that horn paper cutter; 
at that leather music roll on the piano ; and at the 
beautiful cover on this book. Oh, yes, and we for- 
got the ends of the cows' tails that are used to fill 
mattresses with." 

Johnny was looking out at the window. "Come 
quick ! " he cried. " Look at those men going to 
their work. Each man has a leather box to carry 
his dinner in." 

" I think I can beat that," said Mr. Burns. 
" Mary, bring me that box of pills on the mantel. 
There ! " said he, after the box was placed in his 
hand, " don't you see ? Each pill is a box made of 
gelatin, so that, in swallowing the pill, you don't 
taste the bitter medicine. Why, the cow even helps 
us to take our medicine ! " 

" Tony, you are getting sleepy," said Mrs. Burns. 
" I hope our cows have not tired you out. I am sorry 
you must go to-morrow; but you'll come again." 

Tony's eyes brightened as he said : " Good night ! 
I never had such a good time in my life. I shall think 
a great deal more of the cows when I get home." 

" And give my kind regards to the cows," said 
Johnny, with a laugh. 



53 



THE RED MAN'S LITTLE DEER COW 




Once this country in which we live was 
the Red Man's country. Almost 
three hundred years ago the first 
white people came over from Eng- 
land in their little ships. When 
the white people landed they found 
they were in a wild country among 
wild people. These wild people we 
now call Indians. They had red 
skins and long, black hair. The 
land was covered with forests. In 
these woods lived many kinds of wild animals, such 
as deer, bears, wolves, wild ducks and geese, and 
turkeys. 

The Red Men could not cut down the trees, for 
they had no sharp axes. And besides, they did not 
wish to clear away the forest ; for if the trees were 
gone, the animals would go. These animals gave 
the Red Men meat and clothes. They had no 
sheep, no cats, no chickens. 

Did the Red Men have any cows? No, they had 
no cows such as we have. Cattle were first brought 
to America by the white people. The Indians had 
no cow's milk for their babies to drink. They had 



54 



no butter, no cheese, no ice cream. The women, 
or squaws, raised little patches of corn. They 
pounded the grain with stones, and of the meal 
they made cakes which they baked at the fire. 



ii 




The deer was the Red Man's cow. It did for 
him almost everything that our cow does for us — 
everything except to give him milk. The deer was 
a wild, timid, frisky, jumping little 
cow. The deer 
must be called a 
little cow, for we 
shall see by and 
by that the In- 
dian had a very 
big cow. 
The deer's body 
is not nearly so large as the body of our cow. The 
common red deer weighs a little more than a large 
sheep, and is about five feet long and three feet 
high. Its legs are long and very slender. 

The deer's feet are like the feet of our cow, sheep, 
and goat. It chews the cud, and all cud chewers are 
useful animals. The female deer — the doe — gives 
milk for its little one — the fawn — but there is no 
milk to spare for the Red Man. 



55 

Look at the deer's horns. They are like the 
branches of a dead tree. The cow's horns are hol- 
low, so that they have been used for boxes and for 
King Alfred's lantern. The deer's horns are solid, 
like a piece of hard wood or a stone. The male, or 
buck, alone has horns. The horns drop off every 
year, and new ones grow. 

The Red Man had great need of this small cow, 
though it was not easy to kill it with a bow and 
arrow. While alive, the deer did nothing for the 
Red Man. It could not be made to carry burdens 
or to draw loads. But when the dead deer was 
brought home, it was like a store full of goods and 
made the whole family happy. 

Let us see how many comforts the little deer 
brought to the wigwam in which the family lived. 

in 

The wigwam itself was partly covered with deer 
skins sewed together. A hole was left in the top of 
the wigwam to let the smoke out. Under the hole, 
on the ground, the fire was built. Around the 
fire deerskin rugs were spread to sit on. 

Bedsteads, a little like our cots, were made of 
poles. Between the poles fresh skins were stretched. 
As the skins grew dry the beds became tight. The 
bed covers also were of hairy skins. 



56 



Fine, soft leather was made from the skins. From 
this leather were cut all sorts of bags and pouches, 
shirts, and the moccasins worn for shoes. Shells 
were used for money, and these were strung on a 
leather belt. Winter cloaks were made from the 
skins with the hair left on. 

The red babies were wrapped in soft furs taken 
from various fur animals. The cradle was a flat 

piece of wood, covered 
with hairy skin. The 
baby was bound to the 
cradle with a skin, and 
looked like a young robin 
in its nest. By a long 
piece of skin the squaw 
swung the cradle on her 
back, or hung it on a 
;%*,> tree to be rocked by the 
wind. 

Red boys would not be boys if they did not play. 
They played with wooden bows and arrows. The 
strings of their bows, like those of their fathers, 
were the cords or sinews of the deer — three sinews 
twisted into one string. The boys played "shin- 
ney," or " hockey," with balls of deerskin and crooked 
bats of wood. This was their game of golf. 

The Red Men needed snow r shoes for walking 




57 



on the top of deep snow. These were formed of 
wooden frames, with strips of skin woven across. 
Shields for turning away arrows in the fight, and 
drums for the dance were made of hoops with bare 
skins stretched upon them. 
The drumsticks were rolls of 
skin filled with little stones 
to make them rattle. 

Knives, spoons, fishhooks, 
and needles were cut 
from the deer's bones. Of 
the shoulder bones the 
squaws made hoes and 
plows. The horns of the 
deer were shaped into han- 
dles for tools; the sinews 5^a|Nf 
were used for fishing lines ; 

and the tails were worn for ornaments on cloaks 
and headdresses. 




IV 



The deer's flesh is called venison. It is a dainty 
and costly dish for white people in these days. But 
venison was the Red Man's everyday meat. The 
squaws broiled and roasted it over the fire, or boiled 
it in an earthen pot. 

Deer's feet, when boiled, formed a delicious gela- 
tin, which the babies could eat. From the feet glue 



58 

also was made, and this was used as a dressing for 
the red people's hair, and for the shield, to make it 
hard and smooth. 

When the white people came, they wanted many 
of the good things that come from the Red Man's 
little deer cow, and the Red Man wanted many 
things which the white man made. The white 
people sold to the Indians blankets and guns. The 
Indians paid for these things with the horns, skins, 
and meat of the deer, and with moccasins which 
the squaws made. 

By and by the Red Men were driven back farther 
and farther, and white men hunted the deer with 
shotguns and rifles. So it has come about that we 
find in our houses many articles to remind us of the 
Red Man's little deer cow, once so free and so 
abundant. 

v 

Handles for carving knives and forks, and for 
pocket knives, are made of deer horns. In Europe 
is found a fine large deer called the stag. Stag 
horns are there used for umbrella stands, hatstands, 
and for hanging lamps on. The horns are also cut 
into ornaments, pins, and bracelets. 

Many Indians are still making moccasins and 
slippers of deerskin, or buckskin, as it is called. 
With the hair and with beads the Indians work 




59 

pretty figures in the moccasins. Our hunters have 
found nothing better than moccasins to wear while 
hunting. These shoes are so soft that the hunter 
can tread over the leaves as quietly as a cat. 

Buckskin is not only soft, but it wears well, and is 
easily stretched. It is made into 
hunting trousers, tobacco bags, 
and cases for pocket knives 
and jewelry ; but most of all 
it is used for making gloves. 
No kind of leather is so comfortable 
for the hands that work. 

There is a town in northern New York called 
Gloversville. In this town the making of buckskin 
gloves began nearly a hundred years ago, and is 
still carried on. 

HOW SKINS ARE TANNED 

With the help of a knife, made of a sharp stone 
or a bone, the Red Men stripped the skin from 
an animal in the same way as they peeled the bark 
from a tree. The fresh skin would be a heavy and 
unpleasant thing to use, because it would soon 
spoil and decay, or grow hard and stiff. It must 
be prepared so that it will be dry and soft like 
cloth. 



6o 

Changing fresh skins into leather is a great in- 
dustry among civilized people. First they take off 
the hair by sweating the skins in a close room and 
by washing them in limewater — all this is to 
loosen the hair. Then they use machines for 
scraping off the hair and flesh and fat. After that 
the skins are soaked for a time in a liquor 
made of oak or hemlock bark. In this 
bark, and in that of some other plants, 
i there is something called tannin. 
{ Great use is made of the oak tan in 
tanning leather. From its use the skin 
becomes firm and tight and of a yellowish 
color. After this treatment there are ma- 
chines for rolling the skin, polishing it, and 
putting on a coat of black, if desired. When 
all this has been done, the skin is said to be 
tanned and is called leather. 

The Red Men made from skins the same 
kind of leather,- but in a simpler way, and without 
blacking it. These people kept very close to nature. 
When they wanted a knife, or a hatchet, or a hoe, 
they made the tool from a stone, or a bone, with 
very little change. They were not civilized. When 
we want such tools, they are made from iron and 
by machines ; and this is one reason why we are 
called civilized. 



6i 

The busy squaws did all the work, and they 
seemed to like it. After a skin had been taken 
from an animal, if they did not choose to tan it 
immediately, they spread it on a bush to dry. The 
early settlers in our country used to stretch the 
fresh skin and fasten it on the outside of the log 
cabin. 

If the squaws wished to tan the skin at once, 




■m 



vmmr 



they spread it on the ground and scraped all the 
flesh and fat off with a bone hoe. Or sometimes 
the squaw would take a piece of wood as large 
around as a small stovepipe, rest one end on the 
ground, and press her breast against the other end. 
Then the raw skin was laid over the wood, and 
the squaw scraped it with a long bone having a 
sharp edge. This bone was a rib or the small bone 



62 

from the leg of a deer. The ends were wound with 
dried skin for handles, and the tool was worked like 
a carpenter's shave or drawknife. 

After it was cleaned, the skin was rubbed all 
over with the brains and liver of the animal, and 
warm broth from boiled meat was poured upon it. 
This did for the skin what the oak tan does for 
our leather. While wet, the skin was scraped with 
sharp stones and hoes until it was dry. A rope of 
sinews was twisted and stretched between two trees. 
Over this two squaws drew the skin back and forth 
until it was soft. 

If the skin was to have the hair or fur left on, 
the work was done only on the flesh side. But for 
covering huts, and for leggings and moccasins, the 
hair had to be removed. So they packed away the 
skin to Sweat it, just as we white people do, and 
left it until it began to spoil. Then the hair was 
scraped off with the bone scraper, as the flesh and 
fat had been cleaned away from the other side. 

There was scarcely any end to the rubbing of the 
leather between the coarse red hands of the squaws. 
It was rubbed until it was perfectly soft and limber. 
Leather to be used by the men in hunting and in 
the outside weather was smoked over a fire of 
rotten wood. After the deerskin or buffalo skin was 
completely dressed by the squaws, it was as fine 



63 

and nice as the white man's buckskin or bearskin 
robe. 

Do you not think the squaws were almost as 
bright and skillful, in some ways, as white people? 

THE RED MAN'S BIG BUFFALO COW 

i 

Johnny and Mary sometimes visited the animal 
garden, which they called the Zoo. There they saw 
many of the animals alive which they had read 
about in books. 

On one of these visits they hurried to the buffalo 
yard. The name on the fence was Bison, which 
is the right name. To the children the huge beast 
they saw was exactly like the pictures they had seen 
of the buffalo. They did not like the name bison. 

First they looked at the male buffalo — the bull. 
" An ugly beast," said Johnny. " I don't think so," 
Mary said ; " he is a grand fellow." 

" But see those huge shoulders," Johnny replied, 
" with the long hair hanging down almost to the 
ground, and that beard under his chin. Then he 
tapers off so small behind." 

But Mary thought his black eyes were bright, and 
that the horns on the sides of his head were very 
graceful. She would like to see him wild, galloping 



6 4 

over the plain — he looked so sad and disappointed 
in that narrow pen. 

Now, while these youngsters are peeping between 
the rods of the fence, and are talking about the 
lordly bull and the meek-looking cow, let us turn 
back to the Red Men. To them the buffaloes were 
real cows. 

ii 

When the first white people came here from 
England there were no buffaloes near the seacoast. 
The eastern part of the country was covered with 
forest trees. 

The forest is a good place for the little deer 
cow, bounding through the bushes and eating buds 
and nuts, but a bad place for the big buffalo 
cow. Buffaloes are too large to dodge among 
the trees and logs. They live in great herds, and 
must have an open country where the wild grass 
grows. 

When the white people went west to the wild 
pastures where Illinois now is, they found many 
buffaloes. At the first sight of them, the white 
men called them " humpbacked cows." In the far 
West, beyond the Great River, these animals were 
also too numerous to be counted. In all the grassy 
country from what is now Montana to the Gulf of 
Mexico there were millions of buffaloes. 



65 

In the same land of plain and grass were large 
tribes of Red Men. What brought them there ? It 
was the buffaloes. The Indians could not eat the 
grass. The little corn and the few pumpkins they 
raised would not keep them from starving. But they 
could eat some of these big cattle and get many 
useful things from them. 




The buffalo is more like our cow than is the 
deer. Once every year the deer's horns fall off and 
new ones grow. The buffalo's horns, which are 
hollow, like our cow's horns, remain during life. 
Buffaloes cannot be made to work, and the cows 
among them are never milked. 

MONT. ANIMALS — 5 



66 



in 

The buffalo bull is ten times as large as the 
common deer. One would think him a terrible 
foe to meet on the plain ; but he is not. He 
never attacks a man ; yet both the bull and cow 
will fight wolves that sneak about to steal the buf- 
falo calves. 

These wild cattle were so numerous and so useful 
that they supplied almost all the wants of thousands 
and thousands of Indians. 

The wigwam of the western Indians was a large 
tent, fifty feet in diameter. Several families lived 
in one wigwam. It was covered with buffalo skins 
sewed together. One of the skins would spread 
over as much roof as four deer skins. The hair 
of the deerskin is short and straight, while that of 
the buffalo skin is long and curly, giving greater 
comfort and beauty to the wigwam. 

At night the families gathered around the bright 
fire. The black-eyed babies played with skin rattles. 
The men smoked long pipes and told fairy tales to 
the children. All sat on the curly buffalo rugs. 
They had a jolly time. 

The skins were hung on the walls of the wigwam 
to keep out the cold. The thick hide of the ani- 
mal's neck was cut into war shields, which were 
hardened with glue made from the feet. The long 



6/ 

hair of the bull's neck was twisted into ropes. 
Strings were cut from the hides, and used for tying 
moccasins and bundles. 

A large deer would weigh about two hundred 
pounds ; a middle-sized buffalo, fifteen hundred 
pounds. Such an animal, after it w r as killed, made 
a large mass of meat. It had to be cut in pieces 
before it could be taken home. Then what was 
done with it ? 

IV 

Some of the meat was given to the neighbors. 
Pieces of it were roasted in mud ovens heated by a 
fire above and a fire below. Chunks of the meat 
were hun? on trees to dry. When dry they were 
wrapped in hides and buried in the ground for use 
in winter time. 

One tribe of Indians was called Stone Boilers. 
They boiled buffalo meat in skin pots, heating the 
water with red-hot stones. The pot of meat was 
always boiling. It was for all. Anybody passing 
by could step to the pot and take all he wanted. 
The Indians had no beggars. 

The dried meat was often pounded fine in a hol- 
low stone, then mixed with tallow and packed in a 
bladder. This was the Indian's food when making 
a journey. Tallow was also mixed with other food, 
and was rubbed on leather to make it soft. 



68 

These western Red Men had neatly carved war 
clubs ; hoes for digging ; whistles, and musical 
instruments. All these things were made of buffalo 
bones. 

The buffalo head was dried with tht horns on. 
In the buffalo dance each man wore one of these 
hideous skulls. The marrow in the bones was 
made into yellow butter, which was eaten with corn 
cakes. 

From the horns, spoons, ladles, and polished 
jewels for the squaws' headdresses were carved. 
The sinews were used for thread and bowstrings. 
The end of the tail, with its brush of hair, was used 
as an ornament for the warrior's head. 

When the Spaniards came to America they 
brought horses. These animals ran w T ild and multi- 
plied rapidly. The Indians learned to catch them 
with lassoes — long ropes of buffalo hide. With 
horses to ride, the Red Men killed more buffaloes, 
which they sold to the white people. 

The white people wanted the buffalo's hump and 
tongue for food, and the curly-haired skins for 
carriage robes and overcoats. So finally both the 
Red Men and the white men killed thousands and 
millions of these grand cattle. Now there remain 
but a few hundreds of the once numerous buffalo 
cattle of the happy Red Men. 



6 9 



THE ARCTIC MAN'S DEER COW 



All kinds of people must have food to eat and 
clothes to wear. If their country is warm all 
the year, they may eat rice, bananas, and dates. 




From plants they may make such clothes as they 
need. 

In some warm countries there is no animal to 
take the place of the cow, and in these the people 
use the milk from cocoanuts. In other warm coun- 
tries, like the Philippine Islands, the people tame the 



70 

wild buffalo and train it to do the work of an ox. 
This animal gives milk like a cow. 

In the central part of Asia, where the winter is 
cold, there is a wild cow which has very long hair. 
This cow is called the yak. It is tamed, and fur- 
nishes milk, warm skins, and meat. The Hindus 
use the tail of the yak for a fly brush, and the 
Chinese dye it red to wear on the hat. 

But there are people in the far North who live 
in the biting, bitter cold, where grass and corn 
and fruits will not grow. How do they get food and 
clothes ? Some of them live in houses made of 
snow and ice. For several months in the year the 
sun shines but little on them. If they are near the 
seacoast, they may catch fish and large water ani- 
mals, which furnish them with food and with oil to 
burn. But these people need a cow. 

These short, brown-faced, half-wild people — the 
Eskimos — live far north of the United States. 
They have a little deer cow which they call the 
caribou. It is a wild reindeer. It is smaller than 
our red deer, and in winter lives on moss, in sum- 
mer on grass and flowers. Our deer would starve 
where this reindeer lives and thrives. 

It gives the Eskimos no milk, but it furnishes 
them all that our deer gave to the Red Mem 
No skin in the world is warmer than the skin of 



7i 



the caribou. A man or a baby inclosed in a bag 
of caribou skin may be laid in a bed of snow and 
will sleep as w 7 arm and snug as a bug in a rug. 



ii 

The caribou, so much like the reindeer of Europe, 
might have been tamed for its milk and to work 
in harness. But the 
Eskimos have no de- 
sire for milk, and for 
work they have a re- 
markable dog. 

It is in the north 
of Europe that the 
tame reindeer is in 
its glory. In north- 
ern Sweden, Norway, 
and Russia are a 
people called Lapps. 
They are not wild 
people, but they live 
much as Indians do. Their houses are built of 
clay or of hides. There are no other people in 
the world who get so many necessary things from 
one kind of animals. 

The deer and the American buffalo helped our 
Red Men only after they were killed. The rein- 




, 72 

deer, however, is of great use to the Lapp while 
it is alive. It is trained to work with speed, and 
when so trained acts more like a horse, not at all 
like an ox. 

Look at the Lapp wrapped in reindeer skins 
and seated on his sled. His reindeer is hitched 
to the sled by a single strap of reindeer leather, 
and away he goes, twenty miles an hour. This 
animal can draw a load of two hundred pounds, 
besides his master. 

Our deer could not do this, even if it were tamed 
and trained. The reindeer is formed just right for 
such work. His legs are short and stout. His feet 
are large, and spread wide when they strike the 
snow and ice. 

Nearly all the wealth of the Lapp is in his rein- 
deer. The animals like to gather in herds, like 
sheep and buffaloes. A single Lapp may have a 
herd of five hundred ; a very rich Lapp has been 
known to have as many as forty thousand reindeer. 

in 

The reindeer herd gives milk for the family. Very 
little milk is drawn from a single reindeer. But 
there are so many to be milked ! The children have 
all the milk they want, and there is a great deal left 
to be made into cheese. The milk freezes in lumps, 



73 

and is cut off in slices. Jack Frost makes ice cream 
without any help. 

Could we visit the Lapp's hut, we should find it 
covered with reindeer skins. These skins have 
very long, thick hair, which makes them warm for 
both the reindeer and the people. The beds in the 




house are of skins. The carpets and rugs are skins. 
The women and children are clothed in skins, and 
the men's clothes, boots, and caps are of reindeer 
skin. 

Both the male and the female reindeer have 
horns. The Lapp hangs his coat and cap on the 
horns fastened to the wall of the hut. Knives, 



74 

forks, spoons, and handles for tools are made of 
the horns. Reindeer meat, milk, and cheese are 
served for breakfast, dinner, and supper. The house 
is lighted with candles of reindeer tallow. 

The sinews of the animal are used for cords and 
for thread ; and when they are split, the threads are 
almost as fine as silk. The sled standing out of 
doors is made partly of wood and partly of reindeer 
bones. The harness of the swift trotter is of leather 
tanned from the skins of the herd. 

IV 

It is wonderful that this Arctic man gets so many 
comforts from one kind of animal, but it is more 
wonderful that the reindeer is able to give so much. 
Our cow could not live a month where the reindeer 
grows fat and is happy. 

The Lapp has no pasture of grass. He has no 
meadow and makes no hay. The reindeer does not 
like dried food. But the hardy plants, called lichens, 
that have no roots, grow everywhere. They spread 
over the barren land in summer, and keep green 
under the snow in winter. 

The snow does not discourage the reindeer. He 
likes it. He lies down in it and is warm. When 
he is hungry, he digs away the snow with his nose 
and feet, and there he finds the green lichens, 



75 

which he bites off and swallows as fast as he can. 
Then he lies down and chews his cud, like our 
sheep and cow. 

THE ARAB'S CAMEL COW 



The Arab is a dark brown man with black hair 
and beard. He lives in Arabia where there are 
deserts ; that is, land covered with sand or stones, 
and without water, trees, or grass. 

The Arab lives in a tent, but he is not like the 
Red Man. He 
gets his living 
by trading, not 
by hunting. To 
carry on his 
business he must 
transport goods 
across the desert. 
He has no rail- 
road, and he can- 
not use a wagon, 
because wheels do not roll easily in deep sand. 

The Arab needs an animal that can carry heavy 
loads on its back. The camel is exactly such a 
beast. Look at it — how ugly it is! Ugly things 
are often useful, however. That hump on its 




7 6 



back is not handsome, but it is soft and tough and 
strong — just the thing to hang a large or heavy 
load on. 

Though the camel's legs are not so trim and 
pretty as the deer's, or the cow's, they can hold up 
the body, even with a heavy load on it. The legs 
are long and limber, and swing easily back and 
forth. The camel does not trot ; he walks, and in 
walking takes long steps. 

No better feet can be thought of for walking on 

the hot sand. They spread 
wide when they strike the 
deep sand. They have 
no hard, horny hoofs, but 
spongy, leather-like pads, 
that never wear out. The 
camel kneels when he 
receives his burden. His 
knees are also covered with 
pads of hard skin to keep 
them from getting sore. 
His neck bends upward, and carries the head 
high. This is very odd, yet it is easier to carry the 
head in that way. And then — don't you see ? — it 
is better to have the head so high that the nose, 
eyes, and ears may not fill with sand. 

When the wind blows the sand, the camel shuts 




77 

tight both his eyes and his nostrils. In this way 
he is neither injured nor annoyed by the sand 
storm. And as he glides over the sandy sea, the 
Arab calls the camel " the ship of the desert." 

ii 

So far the camel is formed just right for his 
work. He can endure the vexations of the desert. 
He rather likes the sand, and he likes the hot sun. 
But how shall this ugly ship sail ? By its legs, of 
course. The wind will not push it; neither will the 
legs work unless the animal has food and water. 

Here is a difficulty. The desert has no grass and 
no streams of water. The camel must travel a hun- 
dred miles over the burning sand. He may have a 
load of eight hundred pounds on his back, and it 
will take three days or more to make the journey. 
Such work would kill either our horse or our ox in 
a few hours. 

The camel has a very large stomach. He likes 
dry food better than green food. Before he starts 
on a long tramp he packs his stomach with hay, 
which swells and grows larger and richer as the 
days pass. The camel is a cud chewer. When 
he rests under the hot sun he chews over the food 
stored away in his stomach. 

But when the stomach is empty, what shall he do 



78 

for food ? The hump on his back feeds him. 
Long before the journey begins the driver has fed 
his beast abundantly, so that the hump has grown 
large and fat When other food is gone, the fat of 
the hump passes into the body to keep it strong. 

Before starting, also, the camel has taken a long, 
large drink of water ; and this is stored away 
in many sacs in his wonderful stomach. From 
these wells the animal draws water to keep his 
mouth wet. 

The Arab's camel is an ox, a baggage wagon, and 
a railroad all in one. Now we shall see that this 
strange animal is a real cow and also something 

of a sheep. 

in 

The Arab needs a cow to yield milk — for him- 
self and his wife, and for the little Arabs and the pet 
colt. The female camel is his cow. Her milk is 
good, though there is no butter in it, and it does 
not make the babies ill. 

These dark-skinned people of the desert wear 
some clothes of woolen and linen, but they spin and 
weave the camel's hair. This hair comes to us in 
dress goods, shawls, and fine paint brushes. 

The thick hide of the camel is used to cover the 
Arab's tent, and, when tanned, it makes strong 
leather. The camel also furnishes its owner with 



79 

meat — rather tough meat, we should think. But 

the flesh of the calf is tender and pleasant for food. 

In Central Asia there is a camel of larger size than 

the Arabian, and with two humps. It has a much 




thicker coat of hair, for it lives in a colder climate. 
The Asiatic camels are kept in the country for milk 
and to draw loads. The Chinese use many of these 
camels to carry burdens. 



CARAVANS 

What bring ye me, O camels, across the southern 

desert, 
The wan and parching desert, pale beneath the 

dusk? 



8o 

Ye great slow-moving ones, faithful as care is faith- 
ful, 

Uncouth as dreams may be, sluggish as far-off 
ships, — 
What bring ye me, O camels ? 

" We bring thee gold like sunshine, saving that it 

warms not; 
And rarest purple bring we, as dark as all the 

garnered 
Bloom of many grapevines ; and spices subtly 

mingled 
For a lasting savor: the precious nard and aloes; 
The bitter-sweet of myrrh, like a sorrow having 

wings ; 
Ghostly breath of lilies bruised — how white they 

were ! — 
And the captive life of many a far rose garden. 
Jewels bring we hither, surely stars once fallen, 
Torn again from darkness : the sunlit frost of topaz, 
Moon-fire pent in opals, pearls that even the sea 

loves. 

" Webs of marvel bring we, broideries that have 

drunken 
Deep of all life-color from a thousand lives, — 
Each the royal cere-cloth of a century. 



We come ! What wouldst thou more ? " 

All this dust, these ashes, have ye brought so far ? 

All these days, these years, have I waited in the 

sun?" 
I would have had the winged mirage of yonder 

desert. 

Josephine Preston Peabody 

OUR HORSE 

i 

When we were hunting through the house for 
everything made of animal matter, there was one 
thing we did not think of. How were all the 
goods brought to the house — the beds, tables, 
bookcases, books, carpets, stoves, clothes, pictures, 
and the piano ? 

After Johnny and Mary had looked through the 
house, they decided that the sheep has given more 
than any other animal to furnish the house. But 
when they asked their father, " Which animal is 
most useful to the house ? " he said the horse. 
When the children asked him "Why?" he said 
that the horse had something to do with every 
article in the house, and with every brick or piece of 
wood that is in the building itself. " You couldn't 
have a house to live in or any furniture in it, and 
not much food, without the horse," said Mr. Burns. 

MONT. ANIMALS — 6 



82 



And he said further, pointing to a mover's van 
across the street, which two men were unloading: 
" A table is not useful so long as it is in the shop. 
It must be brought to the house before it can really 

be used for a 
table." 

"Couldn't the 
men bring the 
table?" asked 
Johnny. 

" One table, 
perhaps, but not 
all the tables in 
all the houses," 
the father an- 
swered. " Our 
new country 
could never 
have been set- 
tled without 
horses to move the families. There are two horses 
hitched to that van. The wagon weighs two thou- 
sand pounds, and the goods weigh about the same. 
" The wagon load has been drawn more than 
three miles by two horses. Forty men could not 
move the piano and other goods so far. One horse 
does as much work as twenty men. Men make 




83 

the tables and pianos, but horses draw them to 
their destination. If men had to do the horse's 
work, who would make the household furniture ? " 

ii 

11 Then you forget,'' said Mr. Burns, " how much the 
horse does on the farm and in hauling the crops 
away from the farm to the railroads, and from the 
railroads to the houses. Horses plow the ground, 
and move the planting and reaping machines. They 
do more than the farmers to produce our food." 

" And then, papa," said Mary, her eyes very 
bright — 

" Wait a minute, Mary," said her father. " Wait 
till I finish my little lecture. Oxen are very strong, 
but very slow. They couldn't begin to do the mov- 
ing of all our furniture. They are not so intelli- 
gent as horses. Horses are both strong and quick, 
and are easily trained. Besides, they can travel on 
the hard pavements. Oxen could not do this. Now, 
Mary, you may go on." 

" I was going to ask Johnny if the horses don't 
bring us everything every day," said Mary. 

"Not everything," said Johnny. "The horses 
don't bring us the newspapers and letters. Neither 
do they bring our little packages and telegrams. 
The carriers and messenger boys bring us those." 



8 4 

"'But you don't think far enough back, Johnny," 
said his sister. " The horses, you know, brin? us 
the baker's bread, the milkman's milk, and the gro- 
cer's things. They draw away the garbage and the 
ashes, and everything we want to throw away." 

" And you forget," said Mary, " that letters are 
brought to the post office and that newspapers are 
drawn by horses to different places in the city, where 
the carriers get them." 

" And you, Mary, forget all the things the show 
horses and trick horses do," said Johnny. 

" There ! Johnny, you are just like all boys ; you 
can't see any good in anything unless there's fun 
in it." 

"Well, isn't fun good? Don't the people feel 
better after they've seen Buffalo Bill's horses and 
the trick horses in the circus ? " 

"That is true," Mary said, "and the trick horses 
show how much horses know, and how willing and 
patient they are. I like to see the fine horses 
trotting in the park, but I can't help thinking how 
they must suffer when their tails are cut off. Horses 
suffer a great deal to please us and to work for us." 

in 

Just then Mrs. Burns came in, " Is the horse 

ever a cow ? " she asked, 



85 



" Why, no, mamma, that cannot be," said Mary. 
" The cow has split feet with two toes. She has no 
upper front teeth. She chews the cud. The horse 
has a hard round foot with only one toe. He 
doesn't chew the cud. And the mare gives only 
milk enough for her colt." 

" That is true, generally," said Mrs. Burns. " But 
there are some countries where the mare is used 
as a cow. The people in Central 
Asia use mares milk. They use 
it also in Russia, where they make 
a kind of beer of the milk, and call 
it koumiss." 

" Yes, and horses make good meat, 
too," Johnny added. " I have read 
that there are a hundred shops in 
Paris where they sell horse flesh. 
A good many people think it is as 
good as beef." 

"Please don't speak of that again, Johnny. 
I can't bear to think of eating horses," cried 
Mary. 

" But it is necessary sometimes to eat horse 
flesh," Mrs. Burns said. " The lives of people in a 
besieged city have sometimes been saved by horse 
meat. And now let me gather up some things 
about horses which you have passed by. 




86 



IV 

" For thousands of years horses have been of 
the greatest use to people in various parts of the 
world. They are different in different countries. 
The Belgian horse often weighs nearly three thou- 
sand pounds, and can draw immense loads. A 
man can lift the Shetland pony. He is very useful, 

and lives and works 
well where the large 
horse would die. 

" The mule is half 
brother to the horse, 
and does the hard 
work which the ox 
used to do. The don- 
key is half brother to 
the pony, and carries 
goods over mountains 
where horses cannot 
travel. We do not 
like war, but it has been necessary. In battle, 
horses are as brave as their riders and drivers. 
They do not fear spears or bayonets. They like 
the noise of cannon, which they draw from place 
to place. 

"Our horse, if well cared for, lives thirty years. 
How much he does for the family and for business 




87 

no one has ever told. But, in one way or another, 
he must die. His skin is made into leather, which 
is used for harness and saddles, and sometimes 
for shoes. 

"The long hair — the mane — on the horse's neck 
and the longer hair on the tail, are woven into hair- 
cloth, and are stretched on violin bows. Glue is 
boiled from the hoofs and from bits of the hide. 
The body of the dead horse usually goes to the soap 
maker. Johnny's bicycle is easy to keep, it eats 
but a few drops of oil ; but I am sure he would 
think a great deal more of a fine, noble horse." 

OUR PIG 

i 

" Little Betty Pringle had a little pig. 
It was not very little, nor yet very big. 
When it was alive, it lived in clover ; 
Now it's dead, and that's all over." 

No wonder that Betty Pringle made a pet of her 
pig. Little pigs are very clean j^ 

and very pretty. When they <T| 7 

have got from their mother air^JSw 
the milk they want, they frisk *-«^ ^mmm^m^l 
about and nudge one another with their noses. 
The nose is the pig's best tool. 



As Betty's little pig grew larger, she put it in a 
clover field, where it could eat the green grass, and 
the sweet red flowers from which the bumblebees 
suck honey. When it became a big pig, or a hog, 
it was not so pretty and interesting. It was then 
killed for its flesh. 

That is the end of all our pigs. They live 
awhile, and are happy in clover. Then they are 
fed on corn, grow large and fat, and are killed for 
food. 

The grown pig is about as large as a sheep, but 

not so high. Its coat 
is hair — stiff and 
coarse, sometimes. 
It eats grass, but 
does not chew the 
cud. Its feet have 
split, horny hoofs, 
like the sheep's feet. 
Pigs in their wild state are called wild boars. 
They are ugly, fierce brutes, covered with stiff hairs. 
The head of this animal is large, the nose long, and 
two long, sharp teeth turn up from the sides of the 
jaw. 

The wild boar is found in some forests in 
Europe. He tears up roots with his tusks, and he 
eats the roots and worms which he finds in the 




8 9 

ground. Our tame pig, when it is not fed, uses its 
nose for a plow, following the example of its wild 
forefather. 

ii 

Thousands of years ago, the people of Egypt 
used their pigs for plows, and to plant and shell out 
their wheat after it was ripe. 

Our farmer turns over the ground with a steel 
plow drawn by horses. Then he makes the ground 
fine with a harrow, which usually has iron teeth, 
like the teeth of a comb. After that, he sows the 
seed and rakes it in with the harrow. The 
Egyptians at first had no plows or horses. They 
used their pigs for plows and for horses. 

Once every vear their oreat muddy river over- 
flowed its banks, as it does to this day, and covered 
the land with mud, in which were many water 
animals. When the river went back into its chan- 
nel again the fields were dry. Then the Egyptian 
called his pigs together by blowing a shell horn, 
and turned them into the fields. 

The pigs were happy, for there was a feast before 
them. At once they put in their noses and began 
to plow for wriggling worms and fishes. Soon a 
large field was plowed by the noses and harrowed 
smooth by the feet of the pigs. The pigs were 
called off, and the seed wheat was sowed over the 



90 

field. Then the seed 'had to be covered. Here was 
a puzzle. 

The Egyptian wants the feet, but he doesn't want 
the noses this time. While the pigs could harrow 
in the seed with their feet, they could also, if turned 
into the field with free noses, eat up all the seed. 
So the Egyptian caught every pig, and tied a basket, 
or muzzle, over its nose. Then he turned the whole 
herd into the field. 

Then there was trouble. The pigs could see and 
smell the wheat, but could not eat it. Half crazy, 
they scampered over the whole field, and thus trod 
in and planted the seed. 

After the crop was grown and ripe, the straw 
with heads full of wheat was spread on a clean piece 
of ground. Again the pigs, with their noses 
muzzled, were turned on to thresh the grain with 
their feet. 

" Why didn't the stupid fellows lie down and go 
to sleep, when they found they couldn't get any 
wheat to eat ? " Johnny asked. 

" Because," answered Mary, " there were men 
there to whip and poke up the poor fellows, and 
keep them going." 

in 

O.ur pigs are not fitted for trained work. The 
work they do is to change the corn we feed them 



9i 

into flesh, which we eat. They have little chance 
to root or plow with their noses, and so their noses 
have become short for want of use. Pigs often kill 
harmful snakes. The poison of a snake does not 
hurt the pig. In China the female pig — the sow 
— is made use of for her milk. 




Our pigs are kept to eat and to be eaten. This 
is the reason why there are so many. For every 
two people in the whole country one grown pig is 
counted. 

The first useful article taken from the dead 
pig is the stiff hair, or bristles. Watch the shoe- 
maker as he sews his shoe. The needle at the end 
of his thread is a pig's bristle. The best bristles 



92 

for the shoemaker come from Russia, where the 
animals run in the woods. The hair of our pigs is 
softer and more curly, and is used for stuffing sad- 
dles, cushions, and beds. 

For coarse brushes, bristles are brought from 
Russia and Germany. Fine white bristles come 
from France, and are made into brushes for artists. 

So the pigs do some- 
thing to make the 
world clean and beautiful. 
After the hair is scraped 
the pig's body, the skin is 
sometimes taken off and tanned 
ito leather, which is used for sad- 
dles and book covers. But the body 
is nearly always dressed with the skin 
n. The skin, the head, the ears, and 
Le feet are all good for food. 
What is the fat of the steer called ? 
The fat of the pig is called lard. It is used to fry 
other meats, and in cooking pies, cakes, and pota- 
toes. The cook could not get along without 
lard. 

The pig is a great blessing to our farmers, even 
though he does squeal, and sometimes roots up the 
grass and potatoes. The farmers raise immense 
quantities of corn, nearly five times as much corn as 




93 

they do wheat. The people could not eat so much 
corn ; the railroads could not carry it. So the 
farmers feed a large part of this grain to the pigs, 
and in this way turn corn into pork. 

IV 

Fat pigs are sent to market alive. They are 
packed in a car as close as crackers in a box. Of 
course, they do not like the trip. They are so fat 
that they get very hot and tired. Every pig thinks 
the one next to him should get out of the way and 
give him more room. But the next one cannot 
move away. So they all grunt and squeal. 

The railroad men have a tender spot in their 
hearts for these suffering passengers. Once in a 
while the train makes a long stop, and the water- 
hose is turned on the miserable prisoners. Then, 
for a time, there is some rest and quiet. 

At last the travelers arrive at the great slaughter- 
house of the pork packer. They are glad to get 
out of the dirty cars. Little do they know what 
is before them, and for this we are glad. The 
end of them is like that of Little Betty Pringle's 

Pig: — 

" Now it's dead, and that's all over." 



94 
WHOSE PIG IS THE ELEPHANT? 



i 



Mary was startled when her mother asked, 
" Whose pig is the elephant ? " 

" Why, nobody's pig/' she answered. " It isn't a 
pig at all." 

" It is in some ways like a pig, my dear. You 
know that the reindeer is not exactly like a cow, 
yet it is both a cow and a horse for the Lapp/' 

" Yes, mamma, but we eat pigs, and I am sure no 
one eats an elephant." 

" Of course, my dear, no one person eats a whole 
elephant, for one of these creatures, when grown, 
weighs seven thousand pounds. But we are told 
bv a wise man, who lived two thousand years as;o, 
that the black people in Africa lived almost wholly 
on elephant's flesh." 

k> But the elephant doesn't look a bit like a pig, I 
am sure," said Mary. 

u Xot very much like a pig, it is true," said 
her mother. " But the nose is the main tool of 
each ; and the noses are very much alike, only the 
elephant's is twenty times as long as the pig's. 

" You did not notice that the pig has a moving 
lip, or finger, on the upper edge of its nose. The 
elephant's trunk ends in a much longer and more 



95 

complete finger, so delicate in its touch and grasp 
that it can pick up a nut or a pin." 

" I never thought of that," said Mary. 

" The elephant's nose is used for many more pur- 
poses than the pig's," her mother continued. " It is 
used as a hose with which the elephant draws up 
water and throws it into his mouth for a drink, 
or over his body for a bath. He also uses this long 
tube as a trumpet to make a noise with ; and for 
that reason it is called a trunk." 

Thus far Johnny had listened attentively to 
what his mother and Mary were saying, without 
putting in a word. He was thinking; and now 
very bluntly threw out a question. 

" It is all right," he said, " to say that the elephant 
is a pig for the black people in Africa to eat, but 
of what use are his tusks and trunk to anybody 
but himself?" 

"A bright question," replied his mother, " and I 
am glad you have asked it. You seem to think 
that it is interesting to examine the tools which 
animals have for getting their food, and the weapons 
which they defend themselves with. There is no 
tool in the world more curious than your hand. 
Double it up into a fist and it may hurt somebody; 
train it rightly and it may button your coat, pick up 
a pin, or write your thoughts. 



9 6 

'■ But your hand has something to do with your 
life, and the elephant's trunk and tusks have some- 
thing to do with his life. This is why we find 
the tools and weapons of animals so interesting. 




Now I am going to tell you how they are useful to 

men. 

ii 

" You can easily see that it is of great advantage 
to some people that the elephant is so large. He 
can carry on his back a weight of goods heavier 
than a dozen horses can support. So, for thou- 
sands of years he has been very serviceable to 



97 

the people in India, the Hindus, because he is so 
large and powerful. He has been their passenger 
train and their freight train. Do you see the point, 
Johnny? " 

" Yes, but what have the trunk and tusks to do 
with the elephant being so large ? It seems to me 
that these things are good for nothing but to fight 
with." 

" Now you will learn something, my boy. This 
large and powerful animal would never have lived 
to serve the Hindus, or any other people, if he had 
not those strong tusks to help him get food, and to 
fight his way among other big and ferocious ani- 
mals, like the rhinoceros and the tiger. When his 
food is provided for him, and he has no more need 
to fight, he can use these tools for the good of 
others. 

" The elephant's trunk is not a fighting weapon ; 
it is a feeding tool. If so huge an animal, standing 
up so high in the air, had a neck long enough to 
reach the ground, it could not support those great, 
heavy tusks ; and the tusks would be badly in the 
way if this beast had to eat grass like a buffalo. 

" The long trunk, able to feel and smell, reaches 
to the ground and to the branches of the trees — 
opposite places, wide apart, where the elephant 
gets his food. So with this tool, stronger than a 

MONT. ANIMALS — 7 



9 8 

giant's arm, as flexible as a worm, and as delicate as 
a lady's finger, this great beast can break down the 
branches of trees, or pick up a berry or a nut in 
his path. 

" The tusks and trunk, therefore, are necessary to 
procure the immense quantity of food which goes to 




build and to sustain the elephant's huge body. But 
is it not wonderful, Johnny, that so mighty a beast 
learns to obey a little dusky-faced man, called a 
mahout, who sits like a fly on his thick neck ? 

" He will pick up a needle with the fingers at the 
end of the trunk, if the mahout tells him to. Or he 



99 

will work all day long carrying logs with his trunk 
if he is commanded to do so. It is true that 
he sometimes gets sulky, and loses his temper, but 
so do men and boys when they have to work hard 
and long. But you see that the trunk, which is 
necessary for the elephant's life, is almost as use- 
ful to men." 

" It is very wonderful," answered Johnny, chang- 
ing his tone and manner; " I never knew all these 
things before." 

" There are other things, quite as remarkable as 
carrying logs, which this obedient animal does with 
his trunk. I have read an account, written by 
a military officer in India, telling how the mahout 
chains his big servant by the hind legs to a tree, 
and then lays the baby down under his trunk and 
tusks to be tended. 

in 

" The elephant seems to enjoy being a nurse. 
With his trunk he picks a leafy twig from the tree 
under which he stands, and with this brushes the 
flies from the baby's face. If the little fellow should 
roll too far away, the long trunk reaches out and 
lifts it back as softly and tenderly as a mother's hand. 

" Elephants never showed how great they are so 
well as they did in the grand parade of the olden 
LofC. * 



IOO 



times. Then they might well feel proud, dressed in 
splendid trappings, and bearing kings and their at- 
tendants on their backs. Long lines of them were 
marched with armies on the battlefields. The ele- 
phants were then made to blow their own trumpets; 
and the enemy, seeing such magnificent soldiers 
and hearing the awful noise, sometimes fled with- 
out joining in battle. 

" Now I will tell you something about the elephant's 
tusks. It was necessary for the elephant himself 
that his tusks be made of the very strongest material. 
Bone, like the bone in a horse's leg, would not do ; 
it would break too easily. The kind of stuff so much 
needed in the tusks for the elephant's own use is 
quite as valuable for our uses. So I want to show 
you in how many ways these strong, fine, and 
smooth weapons, when cut into various useful and 
beautiful articles, have helped and are now helping 
the people of the world." 

" O mamma," broke in Mary, " don't tell it now. 
We've arranged for the club to take up that sub- 
ject at our next meeting, and it's going to meet 
in this very room." 

" No, no, mamma, please go on," said Johnny. 
" I'm all stirred up about this business, and I want 
to hear the whole story now." 

" Not now, I think," said his mother, before Mary 



IOI 



had time to press her desire. " I had forgotten 
that Mary had told me her plans. It will be much 
better for the children to tell the story themselves. 
Then I may help them a little." 

THE BONNY CLUB'S ELEPHANT HUNT 



So it came about that the children's club met at 
the home of Johnny and Mary Burns. A merry 
company was this club. It was composed mostly of 
children whose parents were neighbors or friends. 

The club had been formed to help the members 
to w r ork well and to play well. The exercises con- 
sisted of games, plays, music, story readings, and 
compositions on interesting subjects, such as ani- 
mals and plants. The object was to have a good 
time. Hence it was called the Bonny Club. 

Nearly all the members were younger than their 
President. Mary Burns had been elected President 
because she was older than the other members of 
the club, and further along in her studies. She 
knew a great deal, because her mind was hungry 
for knowledge, and, besides, her mother had given 
her help at home. Mary was a dignified little 
woman, whom the children trusted. 

After the meeting at Mary's home was called to 



102 



order, the President gave notice that there would be 
a hunt throughout the house for articles of use that 
were made from any part of a certain animal. They 
would first try to guess some particular thing in the 
room by playing the game of comey-comey. Then 
they could get the name of the animal from which 
the article had been derived. 

The first duty was to choose a leader, the It of 
the game. The President was surprised and not a 
little embarrassed when the members all voted that 
she should be It. She could only return thanks, 
and take her place in the midst of the circle. 

So the game began. Mary had the secret in her 
mind, and in answer to the first question asked, she 
said the name of the article to be guessed began 
with the letter p. The next question brought the 
answer that the article was animal, not vegetable or 
mineral. Then each member in turn made a guess, 
but not one guessed right. All were eager to hear 
what It would say. 

" The paperknife ! " said Mary, loudly, taking the 
thin, white thing from the table. Some exclaimed 
that it was mineral, like any other knife, because it 
was hard. But Mary claimed that it was made from 
part of an animal ; and fearing that her brother 
would rashly close the door to further guessing, she 
hastily asked, " What is the animal ? " 



103 

Just what she feared happened. Johnny could not 
keep still, and he rather rudely cried, " I can settle 
that question; the animal is the elephant, and the 
paperknife is made from his tusk. It is ivory, and 
ivory is not mineral." 

The case now grew more interesting. One 




An ivory market, Zanzibar 

thoughtful girl said : " The name is of two words, 
and you gave us only the first letter of one. I 
think it should be p.-k." 

ii 
It was well that Mrs. Burns had slipped into the 
room while the play was going on. She is now 
looking in the dictionary, and the eyes of all the 
children are turned toward her. 



104 

Putting aside the book, Mrs. Burns said : " I am 
sorry that your pretty game failed. Wiser heads 
might have stumbled over the question whether 
' paperknife ' should be two words or only one, like 
'penknife.' The dictionary says it is printed both 
ways. This shows that in our play, as well as in 
our work we must mind our p's and q's — or k's — 
as the case may be. 

" Is the paperknife animal or mineral ? This is a 
more important question, and shows that you must 
have sharp eyes, and do some sharp thinking. 
Things are not mineral because they are hard. 
The black keys of the piano are hard, but they are 
of wood. Is wood mineral? The elephant's tusk 
was once alive. Didn't it grow, as the bones, and 
skin, and hair grew ? " 

The children were all satisfied now, though they 
were to make other mistakes. They examined care- 
fully the paperknife, and many other articles on the 
table, — articles that appeared to be of ivory; for 
Mrs. Burns had placed in sight every ivory thing 
which would not be injured by handling. Then the 
elephant hunt began with a rush. 

Cuff-buttons, a box of them, were turned out on 
the table. " Here's the elephant ! " was the cry, as 
one and another picked up a button. From the other 
side of the room a little girl ran her fingers along 



io5 

the keyboard of the piano, and echoed back, " Here 
he is ! " In another place was grandpa's cane, with 
an ivory head, and again the shout went up, " Here 
he is ! " and still again, when an ivory-handled 
umbrella was spied. 

Sitting down at the table, Mrs. Burns said : " Now 
let us look at the buttons. Are you sure the 
elephant is in all of them ? Are they all of 
ivory r 

" They must be," replied some of the children, " for 
the stuff they are made of looks just like the paper- 
knife." 

" Bring them here, please, and let me see," Mrs. 
Burns said. But before the buttons were returned, 
a little boy found on the mantel a small Chinese idol, 
and cried out, "This is the elephant, sure!" The 
boy brought the little ivory god to the table, and 
there was an uproar of laughter. 

Now the heads crowded as thick as they could 
around Mrs. Burns, who compared the paperknife 
and the idol with the various buttons. " I fear vou 
have been too hasty," she said, " and some of your 
game is not elephant. You have not looked closely 
and carefully. If your eyes do not do their work 
well, your minds will go wrong. Look again and 
see if some of the buttons are not cut and polished, 
while others are cast in molds." 



io6 



in 

She showed them how smooth the substance 
in the paperknife and in the idol was ; how delicate 
were the curved lines in its surface ; and how soft 
was. the color — not pure white. "Notice the differ- 
ence," she said, " between the paperknife and this 
bone button, which has no shaded lines and is as 
blank as white paper. 

" And here is another, a very pretty button in- 
deed, with colors that change as you turn it to the 
light. This button is made of pearl taken from a 
certain kind of clam shell. Here, too, are some por- 
celain buttons. They are mineral, like the material 
of some dishes in the china closet. Look at this 
button; it is not ivory, though it looks very much 
like it. It is hard, too, but it is made of cotton, 
and is vegetable. The material it is made of is 
called celluloid." 

More and more of the elephant game was gathered 
and brought to the taJole. There were crochet 
needles ; there was a penholder, and a cardcase. 
Boxes of checkers and chessmen were opened, and 
a box of billiard balls. 

" How is this ? " asked one and another of the 
members. " Some of the balls and men are red and 
some are black ? " 



10/ 

After explaining that ivory is often dyed differ- 
ent colors, the President, opening the door, said the 
hunt would be taken into the dining room. The 
children, eager to see what more of the elephant 
could be found, followed their leader with lively 
steps. 

They gathered around the table, which seemed to 
be loaded with something covered out of sight 
under a cloth. Suddenly, Mrs. Burns and Mary 
lifted the cloth away, and a picture met their eyes 
which threw the whole company into laughter and 
cheers. " Here is the elephant ! " they exclaimed. 

And so it was. An elephant from the candy shop 
stood up in the center of the table. It had great 
ears, a trunk, and tusks. And around this sweet 
elephant, solemn and dumb, waiting for orders from 
the mahout on his neck, were cattle, sheep, goats, 
pigs, and deer, with other elephants. 

All this silent menagerie had come from the 
baker's oven. The oven had added nothing to the 
beauty of the figures as they were when they left 
the baker's hands. Legs, noses, ears, and tails were 
swollen out of all proportion. It was just as well 
so ; for in a few minutes the whole menagerie, ex- 
cept the candy elephant, had disappeared. 

Mrs. Burns withdrew to the library while Mary 
pointed out on the sideboard some remains of the 



io8 

real elephant. There were knives and forks with 
ivory handles, mustard spoons, and medicine spoons. 
Afterward, the door was again opened, and the com- 
pany returned to their meeting room. 

Here the table was spread with a new and more 
costly display of ivory. In this collection were rare 
dominoes and dice; scarf pins, on which the forms 
of deer and other animals were carved ; boxes for 
jewelry, with covers on which flowers and faces were 
skillfully painted. These had been brought from 
Europe, where many people get their living by 
carving in ivory ornaments. 

A book with ivory covers was taken from its case. 
Johnny showed his uncle's flute, the first joint of 
which was of polished elephant's tusk. His mother 
spread open an elegant fan. The sticks of the fan 
were of ivory, beautifully carved. 

Then, to close the exercises of the Bonny Club, 
Mary proposed a riddle to be guessed: "It takes 
three animals to get music from the piano," she 
said. " What are the three? " 

" The elephant in th^ white keys," many voices 
answered together. 

" I've got another," cried the little boy who found 
the Chinese idol ; " it's the sheep, the sheepskin 
on the hammers." 

" That makes two," said Mary. " But listen ! 



109 

You don't hear any music. What is the third 
animal ? " 

For a few moments the children were silent. 
They were racking their brains to think of the third 
animal. Meanwhile Mary carelessly sat down to the 
piano and struck the first strain of a familiar air. 

In an instant the children rose to their feet, clapped 
their hands, and shouted, " The third,animal is " 

But any one can guess what the children said. 



WILD DOGS 

i 

The wolf and the 
fox are among our ear- 
liest animal acquaint- 
ances. The old stories, 
like the story of Little 
Red Riding Hood, tell 
of them. The wolf 
wants to eat up some- 
body. He is cunning in his wolfish way. Read 
the fable of the Fox and the Raven. The fox 
is trying to steal something. He is both cunning 
and deceitful. 

There has always been trouble between wild 
dogs and civilized people. These people have 




no 



as much as said : " You dogs are rascals and rob- 
bers. You get in our way. You steal and kill 
our sheep and fowl. Away with you ! " 

Could the wild dogs speak and plead for them- 
selves, they would reply: " Not so. You are in 
our way. This was our land long before you 
came upon it. We are not robbers. We take 
only what we claim belongs to us. We had in 
our forest home deer, squirrels, rabbits, and ground 
birds. You have cut down our trees. You have 
made fields of corn in the place of our woods, 
and pastures for sheep and yards for fowl on our 
hunting grounds. You drive away our squirrels, 
rabbits, and ground birds, or kill them for your- 
selves. We are hungry, and we are flesh eaters. 
Look at our swift legs and sharp teeth. These are 
our only weapons, and we have the cunning to use 
them. We cannot live on grass and grain. If 
you take aw 7 ay our deer and rabbits, we must eat 
your sheep and chickens." 

Then the white people might say in reply : " You 
speak well, Messrs. Wolf and Company. But what 
you say for yourselves we may say with equal rea- 
son for ourselves. We, too, are animals, and have 
as much right to the land and its creatures as you 
have. The earth is our mother as well as yours. 
You have the right to kill for food and so have 



Ill 

we. You kill and drive away weaker animals that 
are in your way, and if you are in our way we 
must kill and drive you away. 

" You need not show your sharp teeth to prove 
your right, for we can show you our knives and 
guns and traps. You kill because you are flesh 
eaters. We kill also, and take the land because w r e 
are both flesh eaters and plant eaters. 

" The land belongs to those who make the best 
use of it. You want the trees to shelter your 
game ; but we want to make houses and ships for 
animals with brains, and for these we shall keep 
sheep and cattle and raise corn on the cleared 
land. You are cunning, but we are wise." 

ii 

The wild dogs had little trouble with the Red 
Men. Except for small patches of corn and pump- 
kins, these people delighted in leaving the land 
wild. They would shoot a wolf and make a coat or 
rug of his skin, or catch a fox and wrap the baby 
in its fur. They learned cunning from these ani- 
mals. They saw packs of wolves working together 
to catch deer. Part of the pack would lie in wait 
while another -part would drive the game to them. 
The Indians learned to use the same tactics in 
hunting and in war. 



112 

These wild dogs, or flesh eaters, have done a great 
deal in the past to improve other animals and to 
help men. They kept the plant eaters stirred up 
and active. In this way the deer were made 
swift of foot, and the ancestors of horses, cattle, 
and sheep were driven out on the plains where 
they improved in form and size. 

The small plant eaters, with chisel teeth and 
digging claws, such as the rabbits and the mis- 
chievous prairie dogs, followed the horses and 
cattle. There was danger that these small eaters 
of grass and roots would destroy the food of larger 
grazers, the most useful of all animals. Where a 
single young one was born to the horse kind and 
cattle kind, a dozen young rabbits or prairie dogs 
were produced. 

It was well for wild horses, cattle, buffaloes, and 
deer, that the flesh eaters were always prowling 
about their feeding grounds, waiting to catch a 
young calf, or a disabled grazer. The sly foxes 
picked off the rabbits near the wooded land ; the 
coyotes, or prairie wolves, about the size of sheep 
dogs, roamed afar on the plains ; the large, gray 
wolves went far and near — all hunting and killing 
off the little destroyers of the grass. So the wild 
dogs have been of great service to both the Red 
Man and the white man. 



H3 



In the forests, and on the plains, thousands of 
animals of every kind fall dead from old age or 
accident. What becomes of the dead bodies which, 
if left to decay, would spread disease ? Why, the 
flesh eaters attend to that business, and they do 
their work quickly and well. 

Eagles and buzzards, those large flesh-eating 



though 



they leave 



the 



birds, give some help, 
bones. The wild dogs 
clear the ground even 
of the bones. They 
are the cleaners, or 
scavengers of the earth. 
In the old world are 
the ugly, doglike hy- 
enas, and the sprightly 
jackals, which are like our prairie wolves. These 
have remained among the crumbling ruins of old 
cities and along the path of camel caravans. They 
make haste to remove the bodies of camels and all 
other animals that fall by the way. 




in 



Some things about their bodies help the cunning 
work of the wild dogs; for they risk their lives 
when they set out to catch and kill. One of these 
helpful things is the color of their coats. The color 



MONT. ANIMALS 8 



U4 

also makes their fur more valuable to men, as we 
shall see. 

Of what use to the large wolf is his gray color? 
It makes him look like the bark of the forest trees 
among which he prowls ; and makes his form blend 
with the gray rocks, and melt in the gray air, when he 
hunts in the open. His color protects him against 
his enemies and hides him from the deer and rabbit. 

So, too, the yellowish color of the smaller wolf, 
the coyote, and the reddish color of the red fox 
blend with the color of the bushes and grass where 
they hunt, and help to hide them from sight. 
Can you tell of what advantage it is to the wolf of 
the Eskimo that he is whitish, and to the beautiful 
Arctic fox that he is pure white, in the land of 
almost perpetual snow? 

Quite as useful to men and women are these 
colors when the skins and furs of the wild dogs are 
made into garments. When the Indian hunter 
wears^a wolfskin coat, he is not so easily seen by the 
deer or wolf he is hunting. It would not do for 
him to wear the Eskimo wolfs skin any more than 
it would do for the Eskimo hunter to wear the gray 
wolfs skin. Can you tell why? 

Foxes have long, soft, bushy, and attractive tails, 
called brushes by sportsmen, which they wrap about 
their cubs to keep them warm. When attached to 



n5 

a boa for a lady's neck, the tails are valuable, not 
only for warmth, but for beauty. 

The body furs protect the foxes against the cold. 
They are so thick, fine, soft, and warm, that they are 
sought for ladies' wrappings and muffs, and for 
robes. But the dark color of the fur which helped 
to hide the foxes from view is desired by ladies for 
just the opposite 
reason, — to show 
and reveal, not to 
conceal. 

What is so nec- 
essary to the wolf 
and fox as the 
set of tools which 
they carry in their 
mouths? The 
teeth are hands, knives, and daggers for them. 

When the wolf falls upon the neck of a deer, it 
is with his teeth that he wounds the deer to death, 
and crushes the bones that are a part of the wild 
dog's food. To do their work well, the teeth must 
be hard and strong, like the tusks of the elephant. 

Tusks and teeth are composed of fine material 
which is easily polished. The wolf polishes his 
teeth by using them. So they have always been 
finished jewels ready to adorn the neck of a squaw, 




n6 

or to make points for the Red Man's tools, and for 
the tools of our bookbinders and workers in gold. 

In parting with these destructive and cunning 
flesh eaters, we must turn a kind and grateful eye 
to the wolves and foxes. They were the forefathers 
of our home dogs, big and little. If they had never 
lived to growl and snap, to plunder and. steal, we 
might never have had the delights of Toots and Vic, 
of Rab and Rover. 

WHY JACK WAS A DULL BOY 

i 

We are apt to think that only those animals 
which work for us, or give us things to eat or to 
wear, are useful. But many other animals help us, 
though in another way, and whatever helps us in 
any way is useful. 

Suppose some one asks you why children play ; 
why people go to the theater, hang pictures on the 
walls, or place plants and flowers in the window. 
Can you give a good reason why? Or do you 
think it better to work all the time, and not to play, 
or look at, or listen to anything that pleases ? 

You may have heard it said that " all work and 
no play makes Jack a dull boy." There is a* long 
story in this old maxim. I think Jack was a real 
boy who lived a long time ago in a country village. 



ii7 

He had to work almost all the time, when he was 
not either eating or sleeping. 

He had to get up early in the morning and kindle 
the fire. Before breakfast he had to drive the cow 
from the pasture, feed the pigs, and pull weeds in 
the garden. He had no time to play, and he was 
allowed no pets to play with. After breakfast his 
mother washed his face until it shone, and then 
hurried him off to school. There he had to work 
again, not so much with his hands and feet as with 
his brains. 

It was a school of the olden time. The seats 
w r ere rough and hard, with straight-up backs. The 
old schoolmaster was cross, and carried a stick to 
keep Jack and the other boys hard at work. There 
was no recess. Poor Jack was made to feel that 
there was nothing in life but work, work, work. 
No wonder that Jack was 

" — the whining schoolboy, with his satchel 
And shining morning face, creeping like snail 
Unwillingly to school.' 

Everybody knows that if a boy, or any other per- 
son, has only one kind of things to think of, and only 
one kind of things to do, he cannot be very bright ; 
and if he isn't bright, he will stow dull. It is not 
strange, therefore, that Jack was called a dull boy. 



u8 

It was right, of course, that Jack should learn to 
work while he was young. All play and no work 
would have made him a silly boy, I fear. There is 
real pleasure in knowing how to do useful things. 
But Jack would have worked better if he had been 
happier; and he would have been happier if there 
had been more variety and spice in his life, — if he 
had been allowed time to play, or some one or 
something to play with. 

Even a mother cat knows that her young ones 
must play well if they are to work well. So she 
teaches them to play, and then teaches them to 
work at catching mice. She herself is too smart to 
let them either play or work all the time. She 
seems to know that all work and no play makes 
dull kittens. 

ii 

Jack's hands and feet, also, needed play to make 
them work well, and his mind needed play to do its 
work well. But Jack's heart needed something to 
rest and cheer it ; for the heart is the power that 
moves both mind and hands. If a pet dog had 
capered along with Jack when he went for the cow, 
or had sat by him with ears up and face bright while 
he was milking, work would have gone much better 
with the boy. 



ii9 

Then, when he came from school, it would have 
given new heart to Jack to see his dog, wag- 
ging his speaking tail, running to meet his little 
master ; and to see the old cat while softly purring, 
raise her back and rub her fur against his leg. It 
would have given him new courage for his work to 
hear a canary chirping or singing a cheerful song. 

Pet animals are as useful in their way as work- 
ing or food-making animals. By trusting us, and 
by giving us their love, they open little streams of 
love in our hearts that spread over our spirits and 
refresh us in our work. 

They teach us habits of kindness, of thoughtful- 
ness, and of duty, too* Because if we love them, as 
we must if they love us, we will remember to care 
for their needs — to give them food and water 
regularly and to give them comfortable beds. They 
make us think less of ourselves and more of others. 
They do the best kind of work for us, and we are 
only too willing to make a fair return. 

Pets are helpful not alone to children. Grown- 
up people some of them great and good people, 
have found rest and relief from toilsome labor by 
turning aside to enjoy their animal friends. 

Sir Walter Scott, who wrote a large number of 
novels, was an uncommon worker. He kept about 
him a jolly crowd of dogs, for play and pleasure. 



120 



His favorite was Maida, a deerhound, six feet long. 
He had a number of little dogs, too, called Pepper, 
Ginger, Mustard, Catchup, Soy, and Spice. 

Landseer, the famous artist, had many animal 

pets who were 
very fond of him. 
His dogs would 
sometimes look 
over his shoulder 
at his work, while 
he was drawing, 
as if they were 
judges of art. 

You will some 
day be interested 
in Charles Dick- 
ens, the author of 
" David Copper- 
field," " Old Cu- 
riosity Shop," 
and manv other 
novels. He, too, was a great worker. You may 
wonder how he did so much in so short a time. To 
refresh his heart and to cheer himself in his work he 
kept a large family of pet animals. Of dogs, there 
were Timber, Linda, Bumble, Mrs. Bounce, and 
Sultan. 




Sir Edwin Landseer 



121 

Of birds, there were Dick, the canary, an eagle, 
and several large black ravens, of which a famous 
one was Grip. There was also a group of kittens. 

Sir Isaac Newton was a mighty thinker as well as 
a mighty worker. His heart was bound up in a 
little dog who was always with him. He had 
discovered wonderful things about the earth and 
the stars, and had labored hard to write a book to 
tell what he had found. One day, when the writ- 
ten pages were lying on his table, the dog upset 
a lighted candle and the valuable papers were 
burned. 

Sir Isaac was greatly distressed. So much hard 
work, and now all gone ! But the little, dog, who 
perhaps ought to have been punished for getting on 
the table, had been so much to the great man that 
he only cried out, " O Diamond, Diamond, thou 
little knowest what thou hast done ! " 

OUR DOG 

i 
Our home dog, as you know, is descended from 
the wild wolf or fox. This is quite natural. Most 
of our cultivated plants have come from wild 
plants. The large, bright-colored, juicy apple of 
pleasant flavor has come from a hard, green, sour 
thing, like the wild crab apple. Huge strawberries, 



122 



raised in cultivated gardens, are but improved 
children of very small wild strawberries. 

Our fine horses, cattle, sheep, and dogs are im- 
proved children of wild horses, wild cattle, wild sheep, 
and wild dogs. If you were to examine for your- 




. 



v 



1 



self, you would see that the dog of our red Indian 
is like the coyote; the dog of the Eskimo like the 
northern wolf; the sheep dogs of Europe like the 
wolves of that country; and the Asiatic dogs like 



123 

the jackal. In many countries are sharp-nosed dogs 
that resemble foxes. 

Some old habits still cling to our dogs, which con- 
stantly remind us of their wild ancestors. If you 
were to watch a wolf or a fox making a bed for him- 
self in the forest leaves, you would see him pawing 
them into a heap, tumbling them up and rolling 
them together, and then whirling himself around like 
a top to make a leafy saucer to lie down in. 

Our Toots, foxlike m form, though intelligent, 
and refined in most ways, has never got over this 
wild habit. Lay down a blanket for him to lie on, 
double it and smooth it as nicely as you will — he 
comes to it like a wolf or a fox. He paws it into 
absurd wrinkles ; then whirls round a half dozen 
times, and, after he has worked it into the most 
uncomfortable condition, lies down on the rough 
pile and seems to blush because he is laughed 
at. You cannot doubt that his forefathers were 
foxes. 

How came the wild dogs to be tamed and edu- 
cated? This question was before the Bonny Club 
during several meetings. With all the help the 
children could get, many difficulties were overcome 
and many new ideas brought to light. A few of 
these ideas will be set down here. 

Some of the children said that pet dogs are of 



124 

no use because they do not work. Others thought 
that the pets do good work if they please us and 
make us happy. But older and wiser heads told the 
children that there would never have been any work- 
ing dogs if there had not first been pet dogs. 

ii 

The first pet the savage man won from among 
wild animals was his dog. The wolf became a 
new being after he was tamed. He had no need 
to fight for his life, or to catch game for food, or 
to starve when he found no game. The man pro- 
tected him and fed him. Care and kindness softened 
his disposition, and made him trusty and faithful. 
In return he began to guard his master's home, as 
wolves and foxes guard their dens. 

Great indeed is the change from wolf or fox to 
pet dog. A wild dog is selfish, as he must be, 
while a tame one takes delight in pleasing and 
doing something for others. You know that if a 
wild wolf were to find a litter of kittens, he would 
eat them up in a trice ; and a fox would nab one or 
two to carry away to her cubs. A wolf would kill 
the sheep ; the sheep dog guards them and drives 
them to the fold. 

But a true tale of a little house dog tells of an 
action both unselfish and cunning. This pet dog 



125 

was fond of the cat and her kittens. One day, when 
the cat was away hunting, a strange dog entered the 
yard. The little dog, fearing for the kittens, carried 
them quickly away and hid them safely. 

Making a friend of the wild animal helped the 
man who tamed him as much as it helped the dog. 
It made him a better man. His rude and savage 
disposition was softened when he came to be trusted 
and obeyed, when he came to feed and caress a crea- 
ture that had been so wild and fierce. The baby in 
the family w r as the first teacher of love and sympathy 
for others ; and the dog in the family did what the 
baby had always been doing. 

You should read the story of " Rab and His 
Friends," written by that great lover of dogs, Dr. 
John Brown. This friend of dogs says : " I think 
every family should have a dog ; it is like having 
a perpetual baby ; it is the plaything and crony 
of the whole house. It keeps them all young." 

In a large city every family cannot keep a dog. 
The pets would suffer if there were too many. 
Dogs need more liberty than the city allows. 
Hence many are lost and become little tramps, and 
many are ill-treated. In the City of New York 
there is a society which looks after dogs, and 
punishes those people who are cruel to them. It 
also restores to their homes thousands of pets that 



126 

have been lost. People who have no dogs are 
thus educated to be kind to the dogs of others and 
to their owners. 

Thousands of stray dogs, however, never find their 
owners. These must be killed, or they may become 
mad and do great harm. Their lives are taken 
with as little pain as possible. Their skins are 
turned into leather, from which excellent gloves 
are made, and all that is left of the unfortunate 
creatures goes to the soap factory. 

in 

It is because the tame dog was at first more or 
less of a pet that many kinds of dogs have been 
taught to do many kinds of work. The working 
ones have all turned to good account the natures of 
their wild ancestors. Look at the dog of the 
Eskimo. When his master hunts the white bear, 
this animal uses the cunning of the northern wolf 
to help him ; and, when his master's hook catches a 
struggling fish, the dog plunges into the water 
and brings the fish to land. 

The wolf has strong legs and powerful shoulders, 
or it could not endure to run down the caribou 
deer. The Eskimo, having neither horse nor ox to 
draw his loads, has trained his wolflike dogs to put 
their powerful bodies to profitable use. After the 



127 

dogs are harnessed to a sled — sometimes twelve in 
a team — they gallop away over snow and ice at 
the rate of sixty miles a day. 

In former times, before steam and electricity 
were used for power, dogs were trained to make 
machines go. It was once the custom in Europe 
to roast meat before a blazing fire. The meat was 
hung on an iron spit or axle. The spit was turned 
by a wheel, which was itself turned by a small, 
short-legged dog treading on the rim of the wheel. 
For this reason he was called the turnspit. In the 
same w r ay larger dogs were trained to churn cream 
into butter. 

Our dog has, by the skill of man, been bred into 
many varieties, each turning to good use some 
special disposition of the wolf or fox. Now let 
these different kinds help you in an interesting exer- 
cise. Take your paper pad and pencil and w 7 rite 
briefly what you have learned. 

Name and describe the different kinds of small 
pet dogs, and tell of their smart and cunning 
doings. Which of them have a passion for catch- 
ing rats ? Name the large ones that guard persons 
and property; those who love to save life — that 
rescue from drowning, and from perishing in the 
mountain snows ; those of swiftest foot, and those 
European dogs that hunt deer; those whose scent 



128 

is for ground birds ; those that swim and bring- 
ashore ducks which have fallen by the sports- 
man's shot ; and do not forget those with striking, 
humanlike faces, who are very gentle with their 
friends, but a terror when put on the scent of run- 
away men. 




DOG WORKERS AND HEROES 



More interest than ever is taken in Eskimo 
dogs now that they have become so necessary to 
the miners who rush to the arctic regions of Alaska, 
where gold abounds. It is there that these wolf- 
like dogs are seen by American eyes. 

These animals have their faults as well as their 
virtues. The Eskimo seldom allows his dog to en- 
ter his hut, or to be petted as we pet our dogs. If 
one is permitted to spend a part of his time indoors, 



129 

caressed by the children, his outside companions 
grow jealous of him, and worry him to death. This 
is because the animals have continued so near to 
the nature of the wolf. 

You will notice that the Eskimo dog has up- 
right ears like those of the wolf. Standing ears 
are necessary to wild animals to enable them to 
catch the sounds that float in the air. The case is 
different with nearly all dogs that have for many 




generations been fondled by human hands. Their 
ears droop, for these animals are protected from 
danger, and have less need to listen for the sounds 
of danger. The Eskimo does not fondle his dogs. 
One often wonders why our working animals are 
so willing to labor clay after clay. A disposition to 
work is born in all animals, though some seem to 
be idle. In the wild state they must be busy to get 
their food; but after they are tamed, and their food 
is provided for them, they enjoy reasonable work 
for their masters. The Eskimo do«;s have a rou<>h 

MONT. ANIMALS — 9 



130 

life as we see it. They sleep in the snow during the 
bitterly cold nights. They sometimes draw loaded 
sleds two thousand miles within two months. 

While making a long journey they seldom get 
more than one meal a day, a dinner of dried fish 
or fat meat, and when not at work they are usually 
not fed at all. Yet they like to work, and they are 
shrewd in doing it. The leader in a team, by his 
intelligence, often finds the right road when his 
driver is wholly unable to do so. 

ii 

" Talk about dogs," said an old Alaska miner, 
" why, the curs of high and low degree in the East 
are not to be compared with the Eskimo dog. Put 
him in the harness, and a broad smile spreads over 
his face, his tail curls grandly over his back, and 
with head and ears erect every step he takes is a 
poem in the arctic snows. 

" From puppyhood up he takes to work like a 
duck to water. He goes at it with the vim and 
vigor of his wild ancestors. Rig the pup in any old 
harness, and it's amusing to see how good-naturedly 
he buckles down to work, never tiring, never feeling 
discouraged. One becomes very much attached to 
these useful and obliging animals, and they always 
improve on acquaintance. 



i3i 

" I am led to these remarks," said the old miner, 
" because men and boys in this mining country try 
to train all kinds of dogs to work in harness. 
They can't succeed, because the poor brutes are 
not born that way. The Newfoundland and St. 
Bernard dogs appear to have no interest in their 
new occupation, and they show this in their down- 
cast tails and faces. The Eskimo dogs have shared 
my joys and sorrows in this arctic land, and this is 
why I have a tender heart for them." 

Wisest and best of all dogs is the Scotch sheep 
dog, the collie. He 
likes to tend and drive 
sheep and cattle; and 
so faithful is he that he 
will endure hunger, cold, 
and wet for a long time 
rather than neglect his 
charge. He does his duty without being told, and 
he is so much like human beings that he often gets 
ideas of what is going on from listening to the 
words of his master. 

Recently a man in New Jersey brought home 
seven fine cows, intending to exhibit them at a cattle 
show. He shut them up in his barn, but they soon 
grew homesick, and broke away from their confine- 
ment one dark night. In the morning their tracks 




132 



had been covered by a fall of snow. While the 
owner was telling his neighbor about the lost cows 
his two collies were listening. 

Soon the dogs disappeared, the man knew not 
where. For five days nothing was heard of either 
the cows or the dogs. On the sixth day, however, 
the prize animals appeared, half frozen and half 
starved. Behind them were the trusty collies, run- 
ning and barking to drive the cattle to the barn. 
The cows had been found several miles away in the 
woods, where they were eating the twigs of trees. 
No one knows how the dogs got anything to eat. 
Frequently, of late, the newspapers have told of 

fox terriers and other 
little house dogs, who, 
when fire broke out 
in the house, ran 
to their mistresses 
and, by loud barking, 
waked them from 
sleep in time to es- 
cape from the flames. 
Newfoundland dogs have often been known to 
rescue people from drowning. The following story 
illustrates their intelligence and affection. While 
on a wharf one day one of these dogs saw a kitten 
struggling in the water below. Without hesitating 




133 

a moment he plunged from the pier, seized the 
kitten by the nape of its neck, swam far around to 
a low place where he could make a landing, and 
brought the panting little waif safely to its friends. 

An old negro, called " Uncle Ike," lived in Ken- 
tuckv until, as his neighbors reckoned, he was a 
hundred years old. During: his later years he 'lived 
in his shanty, with only one companion — his large 
dog Turk. He, like his master, was old, and he had 
grown gray about the nose. 

When at last Uncle Ike died, and was borne to 
the burial ground, old Turk followed with the mourn- 
ers, and, after the grave was filled, lay down upon it. 
Xo one could coax him away. He would neither 
eat nor drink. He died of grief, and his bones were 
left where he lay, to show how faithful he was. 

BEARS 



Think kindly and justly of the black bear. He 
is not so ravenous as the wolf. When the nurse calls 
to the children, M Come in quick or the bears will get 
you ! " she speaks falsely of the bears and injures the 
children. Bears are not hunting for children to eat 
them up, as some stories tell. 

The black bear of our country is about as larore 



134 



as a Newfoundland dog. The fur of the coat is 
longer and finer; the legs are larger and looser; and 
the feet end in five toes, but are not used like the 
dog's feet. The front teeth are doglike but the back 

teeth are broader 
and better fitted 
for grinding. 

You can get an 
idea of the food 
an animal eats from 
the way its tools 
are made, and, 
when you know 
the kind of food it 
eats, you may judge 
how it will act. 

The black bear 
is a flesh eater, yet 
he lives much on 
plant food, such as 
nuts and berries, which his teeth enable him to 
chew and grind. 

Plant eaters have a milder disposition than flesh 
eaters. Lions, tigers, and wild dogs, which live 
wholly on meat, are not kind to other animals, 
because they must kill to get food. But those 
bears which live partly on plant food are not cruel, 




135 

and it is only when the mother bear has cubs to 
protect that she acts fiercely. Such bears are usually 
good-natured, even droll, as they show themselves 
after being tamed. 

It is of advantage to the bear, and beneficial to 
men who make use of him, that his body and tools 
are made just as they are. The bear's body, though 
heavy, and his legs, though they seem clumsy, are so 
flexible that he can climb either a small or a large 
tree. He can thus gather nuts, on which he fattens, 
and plunder the hives of wild bees in dead tree tops, 
to add honey to his diet. The flesh of the black 
bear, produced from such fare, is excellent for 
human food. The bear comes down from the tree 
backward, and because of this habit he is easily 
caught by the Red Man. 

ii 

A pair of black bears, when winter comes, find a 
hollow tree in which they sleep until spring, and 
where their cubs are born. It is during this cold 
season that they most need their thick, heavy coats, 
which serve so well for the Indian's bed cover, or 
the white man's robe. This winter sleep without 
eating is possible because the bears have already 
grown very fat. The life of the bears and of their 
cubs is nourished by this store of fat. From it, so 



136 

needful to the bear, the Red Man gets oil to dress 
his leather and his hair. The white man too has 
found this fat useful for various purposes. 

You can readily see how beneficial to men is this 
long winter sleep of the bears. The same severe 
weather that locks up the food of the animals 




makes the Red Man's hunt for the deer more 
uncomfortable and difficult. For him, then, it is 
good fortune to find a pair of fat bears fast asleep 
in their winter den. 

The white polar bear of the North lives almost 
entirely on fish. His long neck is a help in catch- 
ing fish, and the stiff hairs on the soles of his feet 
prevent slipping on the ice. During the extremely 



137 



cold winter, the mother bear digs a den in the deep 
snow, where she sleeps for months and nurses her 
cubs. 

The dark color of the black bear serves to pro- 
tect this animal from notice by his enemies when 
roaming in the for- 
est, and the white 
coat of the polar 
bear makes him, 
also, less notice- 
able in the regions 
of snow and ice. 

The black fur 
makes a showy 
cape for the coach- 
man in the city, 
while the white 
fur of the polar bear protects the Eskimo hunter 
from being seen, and also makes a handsome robe 
or rug for the white man. 

The way in which the bear uses his feet is shown 
in nothing better than in the tricks and dancing of 
the showman's animal, the European brown bear. 
In the old stories he is called Bruin. You will see 
that he uses his feet in the dance as he used them 
when he was wild. 

When any bear walks he strikes the ground with 




138 

his whole foot. The dog steps only on his toes. 
When he sits up, as some dogs do, he rests on his 
whole feet, but cannot walk on them. The wild 
bear always walks in this way — flat-footed — and 
thus he is able not only to sit up but to walk on his 
hind feet, while he may hug a stolen pig or carry 
some other bundle in his arms. 

So the trained Bruin, being flat-footed, can dance 
to music ; or, joining hands with his keeper, he can 
run through the measures of a waltz nearly as well 
as a flat-footed boy or girl. 

The grizzly bear of the western mountains is 
four times as large as the black bear. He lives 
mostly on animal food, and is as ferocious as a tiger. 
He cannot be tamed, his flesh is not pleasant for 
food, and the only important value he yields is his 
very large robe. 

A BEAR FARM 

i 

Fifty years ago there was great excitement over 

the finding of gold in California, and thousands of 

people rushed to that far-off country to make their 

fortunes. 

The trip across the scorching plains, and over 
high and rugged mountains, was a difficult one, 
beset by hardships and dangers. There was no rail- 



139 

road to the Pacific Coast at that time, and many 
people made the journey of more than two thousand 
miles by ox teams, fighting hunger, cold and heat, 
and hostile Indians. 

Among those who braved the terrors of the over- 
land trip were a young man and his wife from Mis- 
souri, who settled near the Sacramento River and 
opened a tavern. They had very little money but 
plenty of pluck. For a time they prospered, and 
often took in from their guests a hundred dollars in 
gold dust (the only money used) before breakfast. 

But fortune after some years turned against them. 
The digging of gold was less prosperous, and the 
hotel business suffered. Finally the father died, 
leaving the mother with a family of nine children. 
She sold the tavern, and removed with the family to 
a country far north, where she bought a farm and 
set up a new home. 

Then occurred an outbreak of the Indians, who 
burned her house and barn and drove off her cattle. 
But the brave woman never gave up the struggle. 
She kept her pursuers at bay with a rifle until 
she reached a refuge for her family, five miles 
away. After that she, with a son and daughter, 
moved to a wild mountain ridge in the Coast 
Range. 

The prospect before them was anything but rose- 



140 

colored. All around, as far as the eye could see, 
were mountains, forests, and grassy hills. What 
chance was there to make a living here ? The 
answer to this question will show what people of 
quick wit and courage can do when they are ener- 
getic and are determined to make the most of their 
circumstances. 

They built a cabin, and started to raise sheep and 
pigs on the grassy ranges. But the mountain 
woods about them were the home of bears. There 
were so many bears that they ate up not only the 
sheep and pigs as fast as they were raised, but even 
the chickens. 

11 

This seemed to be the worst plight of all that 
had befallen the ill-fated family. How could they 
make a living now ? The mother, a tall old woman 
with white hair, was equal to the crisis. She had 
proved her own skill with the rifle. Her son was a 
good shot and knew nothing of fear. Her daughter 
also had learned how to handle a rifle, and was 
equally courageous. 

So the mother determined that if she could not 
raise sheep, pigs, and chickens, she would make 
trouble for the bears, and compel them to pay for 
the damage they had done. Then the three set 
about killing bears, and sending their meat and 



Hi 

skins to market. Mary, the daughter, soon became 
a "crack shot," and the skins of the animals she 
killed went to market bearing her name. 

In the early spring it was not hard to find the 
winter dens of the 
bears, and whenever a 
mother bear was shot, 
the cubs were brought 
home t(3 the farm. 
This started a new 
idea — a bear farm. 
Why not ? One of 
the cubs grew to be 
a large creature, and ^ s ~ 
became a docile pet, whom they named Pansy. 

About the only sport the family had to relieve 
the dullness of their wild life was when the old 
woman with snowy hair filled her apron with 
apples and threw them, one by one, for Pansy to 
catch in her mouth. 

The idea of a bear farm grew. More cubs were 
captured, and the number of bears killed increased 
to fifty, even a hundred, each year. The farm 
came to be a paying business. The skins sold 
brought from ten to thirty dollars each. The oil 
from a single bear brought from thirty to forty 
dollars. 




142 

Bear steak was also in demand after the animals 
had grown fat on the falling acorns. When the 
bear meat was cut into pieces and dried in the sun, 
it was called jerked meat. This, too, was enjoyed as 
food, and found a ready market. Added to all this, 
an occasional sale of a live cub brought twenty-five 
or even a hundred dollars. 

Surely, very few families ever make more out of 
discouraging circumstances than did this dhe. 

SOMETHING ABOUT FUR 

i 
There is quite a difference between hair and fur 
— see if there is not. Hair is straight ; fur is wavy 
or curly. Hairs will not stick together; they fall 
apart. Pinch a few threads or fibers of fur and 
they will cleave to one another. Why is this so ? 

Put a fiber of fur under a 
magnifying glass. You will 
see what your eyes could never 
discover without the glass. The 
fiber is covered with the small- 
est possible hooks, or barbs. 
It is by these barbs that the 
fibers hold together. Examine 
a single fiber of hair and you will find that it has 
no barbs. 




143 

Even in the finest furs there are some long hairs. 
These together are called the overhair. They keep 
the fibers of the fur from packing too close, and 
thus make the covering of the animal warmer and 
more pleasing to the eye. 

On a very cold day, put a lady's muff to your half- 
frozen ear. How delightfully warm it feels ! Watch 
the boas and muffs, capes and jackets of fur, as they 
pass along the street. They are attractive ; some 
of them are beautiful. 

Can you think of a better covering than fur for 
an animal in the terrible cold of the far North ? 
Coats of fur must then be quite as warm for the 
people in that country. They could not endure the 
intense cold without these coats. Bears, wolves, and 
foxes yield clothes almost ready made. 

You know what the beds and clothes of the 
Eskimo are made of. Hunters in the far North, 
gold diggers in Alaska, and people who explore to 
find the North Pole, are all compelled to imitate the 
Eskimo in using furs. Even in our most northern 
states, furs are necessary to protect against the 
winter cold. 

Men need overcoats, mufflers, and gloves of fur. 
Women need boas, muffs, capes with upturned 
collars, and jackets of fur. All must have fur robes 
to wrap themselves with when they ride in sleighs. 



144 

ii 

But furs are worn where the weather is not so 
cold. Why ? Because they are showy and beau- 
tiful. For this reason they are often worn when it 
would be more comfortable to go without them. 
For thousands of years, people have set the greatest 
value on at least five things, which they call 
precious. These are gold, diamonds, pearls, some 
rare and beautiful stones, and furs. 

The people of ancient times had fur skins to 
cover their floors and couches. The sacred taber- 
nacle of the Israelites was adorned with such skins 
dyed red. Great heroes were clothed in furs ; and 
the choicest were reserved for kings and nobles. 
Furs were as fashionable then as they are now. 
There was such a rage for them that some kings 
gave orders that the people must stop paying so 
much money for them. 

Here is a problem to think of: The choicest, 
and in every way the most valuable, of all furs are 
taken from small animals that reach their dens or 
catch their prey by gliding into holes in trees or in 
the ground. Of what use is the short, fine fur to 
such animals ? 

The buffalo is a great, bouncing creature, living 
on the surface of the ground, and the fur on his 
skin is very coarse. The wolf's fur is finer ; the 




145 

bear's still finer ; and the fox, which burrows in the 
ground, has finer fur than any of these. The pretty- 
faced raccoon is a 
tree animal, as is the 
gray squirrel, and 
these have coarser 
fur. The rat and the 
ferret, which slip 
through small holes, 

have very fine, soft fur. The rabbit, which burrows 
in the ground, has a softer fur than the hare, which 
lives above ground. 

A DETECTIVE IN FUR — THE FERRET 

i 

Visiting a shop, w T here pet animals are for sale, 
one may sometimes see a ferret. It is a yellow- 
ish, whitish animal, as long as a cat, and as small 
around as a rat. Its legs are short, and its claws 
sharp. The head is small, the ears look as if 
they had been cropped with shears, the nose is 
tapering, and the teeth are sharp and piercing. Its 
body is almost as limber as a snake's; and taken 
all together the ferret looks like a snake on legs. 

The ferret is one of a large group of fur-bearing 
animals. By knowing this one, therefore, you will 
know many traits and habits belonging to its furry 

MONT. ANIMALS — IO 



146 

cousins, such as the sables or martens, which pro- 
duce the most costly furs. These long, flexible ani- 
mals are so formed that they can make their way 
without difficulty into and along holes that are small 
and crooked. They would be ill-formed for their 
work if they had long legs and ears, or larger, stiff er 
bodies. 

Ferrets have fine, soft fur, but not for this are 
they noted or valued. They are not killed for their 
skins, "because they are needed for useful work 
which calls for life and action. Like all their rela- 
tions in fine fur they are lovers of blood, which is 
their main food. They seize a rat, rabbit, or ground 
squirrel by the neck, kill it, and suck its blood. 
Thus they kill many more animals than they could 
possibly eat if they lived wholly on flesh. 

The ferret is not now a wild animal, though it is 
not very tame. It is bred under human care, and 
has been for two thousand years. Its forefathers 
were wild, and lived in Africa. The story which 
tells how ferrets first came to be tamed is well 
worth reading. 

More than two thousand years ago Spain was 
badly infested with rabbits, as in late years the same 
pests have overrun New Zealand and Australia. 
The crops of Spain were eaten up, and the people 
were in danger of starvation. Besides eating every 



147 

green thing, the rabbits bored the land full of holes, 
and left it like a honeycomb. 

The study of animals and the study of geography 
help each other. Turning to the geography, to 
which you may already have been introduced, you 
will see how easy it was for Spain to carry over 
from Africa these little creatures whose disposition 
to kill ground animals was well known. After they 
had been landed they were tamed as well as they 
could be, but they were still ferocious and hungry. 
Then they were let loose to rid the country of its 
pests. This they succeeded in doing, and thus, as the 
Greek story goes, ferrets saved the people of Spain 
from starving. 

ii 

Though the ferret was tamed, and has continued 
tame during all these hundreds of years, it is a 
poor kind of a pet, and there is good reason for this. 
Our dogs are more amiable as pets, because we do 
not allow them to kill other animals for their own 
food, and our cats, if well fed and much fondled, 
are not apt to be good mousers. 

But the ferret is tamed in order that it may kill 
rabbits and rats; and the temptation to do so is 
that the ferret is allowed to suck the blood of its 
victims. Its ferocious nature is thus kept alive. It 
is no wonder that now and then the little imp nips 



148 



the hand of its owner, who handles the soft, silky 
thing and puts it in his pocket. It is often neces- 
sary, therefore, to fasten a wire muzzle over its nose. 
It was very natural that ferrets, having once 
rid Spain of pests, should be sought for by other 

countries. After a 
while they spread 
throughout Europe, 
and were finally 
brought to this coun- 
try, to keep up the 
war against rabbits 
and rats. Perhaps 
you can now see why 
this animal gets an 
advantage from its 
soft, slippery fur when it squeezes through very 
tight places. But the one thing that makes the 
ferret so useful and effective is that it kills its prey 
for the blood and not for the flesh. Hence it is 
much used as a destroyer of pests. 

The ferret man, with his gang of underground 
detectives, — bloody little knaves, — becomes a man 
of business and a contractor. He takes jobs of rid- 
ding warehouses, hotels, and dwelling houses of 
unruly rats. His armed detectives do their work 
thoroughly. In some cases, where rabbits are to 




149 

be routed from their holes so that they may be 
taken for game, the ferrets are set to work with 
muzzled noses. 

The ferret, by his delving, persevering work, has 
given a strong word to our language — a word of 
action and pluck. We ferret out a secret or a hid- 
den crime. We make ferrets of our brains, and set 
them at work to run down difficult answers to hard 
questions; to find the things that trouble and per- 
plex our study that we may chase them into the 
light. 

A TALK WITH A FURRIER 

It was scarcely nine o'clock in the morning when 
Mary Burns stepped briskly into a shop where fur 
garments were made and sold. 

" I have not come to buy anything," she said to 
the polite lady in attendance, u but to get some 
items for my notebook — for our little club, if you 
please." 

"About furs, I suppose," said the lady, u and I shall 
be only too glad to tell you what I can, for I myself 
have a strong liking for animals as well as a fancy 
for furs. Have you learned anything about the fur- 
bearing animals ? " 

11 Oh, yes," said Mary. " I have learned about 
wolves, foxes, bears, rabbits, and squirrels." 



i5o 



" I presume so, but they are not the animals that 
yield the most expensive furs. Come with me to 
the show window. It is filled with very quiet people, 
you see, because they are only stuffed skins. We 
don't have to feed them, and they won't hurt you." 
They went to the window. 

" Here are your old friends," said the lady, point- 
ing them out one by one. " And here is the beaver." 
" Yes, I know the beaver," said Mary. " He is 

the fellow that cuts 
down trees with 
his teeth, and 
builds a dam of 
timber, mud, and 
sticks across a 
stream, to make a 
pond, in the mid- 
dle of which he builds his house." 

" That is correct, and you notice that his fur is 
thick and soft, as the furs of most water animals 
are. You see that larger animal, which also lives 
mostly in the water. It is the seal, or sea bear, of 
Alaskan waters. The small one in the corner is the 
muskrat, a river and pond animal. The fur of all 
these is not injured by being wet. 

" And the otter," the lady pointed out, " is a bear- 
like water animal that grows an excellent fur, once 




i5i 



■■■ -' Ji 




very fashionable for overcoat collars and for gloves. 
Otters are jolly fellows, often sliding down mud 
banks in play. But they are growing scarce, be- 
cause so many of them . — 

have been killed just for 
sport." 

" Which animal has the 
most costly fur ? 5 ' asked 
Mary. 

" The Russian sable. 
It looks like this weasel 
here, and has the same 
form and habits, but a 

much more beautiful fur. Here is a bit of the pelt, 
and I will show you a sable garment soon. But 
here are two pieces of pelt. I wonder if you can 
tell what two different animals they are taken from." 

" Why, the weasel looks like the ferret, only it is 
red," said Mary. 

" Yes, the ferret belongs to the same family," said 
the lady. 

" And these two pieces of skin," continued Mary, 
" I am sure are" sealskin. I have seen so many seal- 
skin capes and muffs. They look alike and feel 
alike." 

" But one of them is beaverskin," the lady ex- 
plained. " This shows you how much art there 



152 

is in making articles of fur. The beaver's skin, or 
pelt, is dyed exactly like real sealskin and is clipped 
by a machine, so that you cannot tell one from the 
other. I can also show you furs which look like 
sealskin, but which are made of the pelts of Belgian 
hares and raccoons. You know the raccoon ? " 

kk Yes, indeed, he is the little tree bear, and is 
much prettier than this stuffed thing." 

" So he is, but yet is a mischievous rascal in 
the farmer's cornfield. In former times the boys 
on the farm had coonskin caps, and nearly always 
there was nailed on the log cabin a coonskin dry- 
ing in the sun. You see, then, how skill and art are 
making beautiful things of such ordinary affairs as 
hareskin and coonskin;' 

Mary was then taken to see a Russian sable jacket 
hanging on a rack. She admired its beauty, but 
did not understand how so large a garment could be 
made of so small a skin. 

" We call it a pelt rather than a skin, v said the 
lady, " because a pelt is a skin with its fur. Many 
sable pelts were put together to make this jacket, 
and the making of it is almost as much a work of 
art as the painting of a picture by an artist. 

" You see how the shades of color are made to run 
in regular lines. This is done by piecing together 
parts of many pelts. These are not cut with scis- 



153 

sors, which would injure the fur, but with a peculiar 
kind of knife. A single pelt usually costs two hun- 
dred dollars, and a jacket of this fur often sells for 
two thousand dollars, or even more. 

" For the trimmings of elegant fur garments the 
pelts of foxes and chinchillas are very fashionable. 
You should know the pretty, squirrel-like chinchilla 
of South America. The linings of jackets, capes, 
and muffs are made from the pelts of rabbits, 
squirrels, and muskrats. So you see how many 
kinds of animals, from all parts of the world, are 
yielding their pelts to make us warm and attractive.'' 

11 1 should think all the fur animals would be 
killed off after a while," said Mary, thoughtfully. 

" No, not for a long time. Some will go like the 
otter, and the raccoon, which is destructive. But 
fashion changes, and a very popular animal goes out 
of style for a while. Then its kind has a chance to 
multiply. The art of the furrier will find a way to 
get out of any difficulty. Tame animals, like Bel- 
gian hares, are quite the rage just now for both 
flesh and fur. Then, too, there are hare farms and 
farms for raising cats, especially black cats, for 
their pelts." 

As Mary closed her notebook and was taking 
leave, her instructor added : — 

" Now, my dear girl, there is one thing I hope 



154 

you will carry away with you and think of. Not 
only are millions of animals sacrificed for our pleas- 
ure every year, but think of the men who capture 
them — those who trap and shoot the beautiful foxes 
in the dreadfully cold North, and those who suffer 
hunger, are frozen and sometimes die, while they 
hunt for the richest furs in the ice-bound winter 
of northern Russia and Siberia." 



SQUIRRELS AND CHILDREN 

Central Park is a school, or rather contains many 
schools, for children and for grown-up people, too. 
There are occasions when they are allowed to go on 
the grass, but it is well for both young people and 
older people that the warning " Keep off the grass" 
is before their eyes. 

There would be no grass if the people at all 
times were allowed to tread upon the green lawns. 
Therefore the law which forbids them to do so is 
just, because it is for the good of all. To walk in 
the park, and to enjoy its beauties, without injuring 
the grass or shrubs or flowers, is to learn a lesson of 
obedience to the law. 

But the park does much more than teach such a 
lesson. It teaches us to love what is beautiful to the 
eyes and the ears. For what else are the shady 




155 

trees, the leafy shrubs, the lovely flowers, the sing- 
ing birds, and the graceful walks and quiet lakes ? 
The squirrels, also, 
are a perpetual de- 
light. It is well 
that they are pre- 
served here, for the 
wild squirrels are 
fast passing away, 
killed as they are 
for food and fur. 

In the park, squirrels are shown to be of a higher 
use than for potpies and for fur. They teach les- 
sons of human kindness, and give examples of inno- 
cent, childish play; for they are very human in 
some of their ways. This is what Uncle Mack 
thinks, and he has been a constant visitor to the 
park for many years. 

Uncle Mack loves both children and squirrels. 
For the one he keeps in his pockets crackers, for 
the other nuts. He carries in his hand a hickory 
stick, to punish unruly dogs with, but he never uses 
it on children, though he thinks some of them are 
almost as unruly as the dogs. 

Because some children try to abuse the squirrels, 
Uncle Mack thinks they are afraid of all children. 
" No wonder the squirrels fear children/' he says, 



i 5 6 

"for I have seen women hand switches to their 
little ones, saying, ' Here, take a whip, baby, and 
whip the squirrels.' " 

All children who know Uncle Mack love him. 
Some of them call him Grandpa. The squirrels 
know and love him too, for they trust him as a friend; 
and has he not become lame with rheumatism by 
caring for the pets in stormy weather ? When he 
enters the park and blows his whistle the squirrels 
rush to him from every direction, as if shaken from 
the trees. 

He calls them by name — Switchtail, Daisy, 
Barney, Garibaldi, and so forth. They come with- 
out a fear. They climb up his clothes and his 
hickory cane; sit on his shoulders; and pull at his 
hat, until he gives them nuts. They even go down 
into his pockets to find nuts. Do you not think 
Uncle Mack is a good teacher and has a model 
school ? 

Then, again, the squirrels themselves keep school, 
in which they teach how to play in a most human 
way. "A visitor to Central Park, the other day," 
says the Herald, " was sure the squirrels know 
something about boys' sports, or he thought per- 
haps the boys had got some of their games from the 
squirrels. 

" While sitting on a bench in one of the walks, 



iS7 

the visitor noticed two squirrels which were play- 
ing tag with all the spirit any children could 
show. They chased each other back and forth 
over the grass and up and down the trees, and 
took turns as regularly as two boys would have 
done. 

" Then, to the visitor s surprise, they suddenly 
stopped playing tag, and began a real game of leap- 
frog on the fence rail. First one would jump over 
the other, and then stand still while the other 
jumped over him. They kept this up for several 
minutes, each taking his regular turn. The visitor 
wondered if the squirrels were imitating young- 
sters they had seen at play, or just knew the game 
all by themselves. 

" When the squirrels had tired of leapfrog, they 
dropped to the ground, wrapped their arms around 
each other, making themselves into a ball, and 
rolled down a short hill to the bottom. Then they 
scampered back to the top and rolled down again, 
keeping it up a half dozen times. 

11 Finally, the squirrels' playtime seemed to be 
ended, for as they separated at the foot of the 
hill, after one of their rolls, they suddenly ran off, as 
if called to dinner, and quickly disappeared. The 
visitor regarded his glimpse of the squirrels' play as 
a most delightful experience." 



158 



HUNTING THE CHINCHILLA 

The chinchilla is in some respects like our com- 
mon squirrel, and in others like the rabbit. It looks 
more like the squirrel, but acts more like the rabbit, 
for it burrows in the ground to find a secure place 
for its nest. The chinchilla cannot climb a tree ; it 
lives where there are no trees. 

Where does this squirrel-rabbit live? Away 

up on the lofty 



Andes Mountains, 
in South America, 
so far away and so 
high up that it seems 
as if no enemy would 
ever find it. Chin- 
chillas gather to- 
gether in large, happy 
villages, and build 
cities in small hills on the shoulders of the high 
mountains. 

But alas for these quiet mountaineers ! They 
are clothed in thick, soft coats of dusky gray, 
streaked with darker color, which are very beautiful. 
People began to find out how attractive and how 
warm this dress of fur is, and wanted it; and 
what people want, in these enterprising days, they 




159 

will have, no matter in what corner of the earth it 
may be. 

Because they are like squirrels, the chinchillas 
have a handsomer fur than if they were altogether 
like rabbits. Then, too, the clear, dry mountain air 
improves their pelts. But they could not live where 
they do if they were not also rabbitlike, for there 
are neither trees nor nuts — only roots. So they 
must burrow for their nests, and dig roots for their 
food. They are so gentle in disposition that it is a 
pity to disturb their peaceful homes. 

At the foot of the Andes live tribes of half-wild 
Indians, who are only too glad to get the white 
man's money in exchange for chinchilla furs. But 
it is no easy task to catch the cautious, cunning 
dwellers in the ground in such a way as not to 
injure their precious fur. 

The Indians at first tried to pierce the animals in 
their holes, using for this purpose the sharp spines 
of the cactus plant made into spears. By this 
method the skins were torn. Then they set traps 
to snare the victims when they came out of their 
holes to feed on roots in the moonlight. But the 
chinchillas, like many other cunning animals, soon 
found out what the traps were for. 

The Indians then tried to smoke them out by 
building fires at the mouths of their holes. This 



i6o 

way was effectual, but the smoke turned the pelts 
yellow. After that the little ferrets, with which we 
catch rats, were procured at a large price. This 
scheme proved to be too expensive and too slow. 
Then the shrewd, crafty white man came to the 
help of the Indians. 

The powerful, terrible dynamite, which is used to 
blast rocks and to blow up ships, was brought 
to the hunters, and they were taught how to use it. 
In what way could it be applied to the capture of 
chinchillas without blowing them to pieces ? 

The dynamite was used to make a great noise, 
and to cause the ground to tremble, and not 
directly to injure the bodies of the ground dwellers. 
The chinchilla was rather to be scared than hurt, to 
begin with. The citizens in the hill must be 
routed out of their holes with their pelts in good 
order. 

So, around the hill, the Indians build a fence of 
grass, bushes, and spiny cactus — a fence over 
which and through which the animals cannot pass. 
Near the center of this inclosure, when all things 
are ready, a roll of dynamite is exploded. 

The explosion thrills the city to its center, and 
the little inhabitants rush out of their holes, throb- 
bing with fear. Then the Indians, who are far 
enough away to be safe from the bursting dynamite, 



i6i 

leap the fence, and dispatch the larger animals by 
the use of clubs. 

The skins are taken off and spread upon bushes. 
The flesh, which is white and tender, is roasted at 
the fire and is eaten by the hunters, who share 
their meal with the ferrets, when they are in the 
hunt. 

Several times during the year, the Indians are 
met at the base of the mountains by the agents of 
European and American fur dealers. A large sum 
of money is paid for the dried skins, which are 
carried to the seacoast and shipped to different 
countries. A long time and much labor must yet 
be spent before the chinchilla of the Andes becomes 
part of a lady's dress in Europe. 

RATS AND MICE 

" Rats ! " exclaimed Johnny, when he and Mary 
began to study this subject; "I don't see what 
good they do. They are rascals, and so are mice. 
What do we keep Sleepy Eyes for but to kill rats 
and mice ? Rats are as bad as snakes, and every- 
body knows that snakes ought to be killed." 

"There, Johnny," said Mary, "you are always 
hard-hearted toward animals you don't like. I 
don't like rats, I am sure; but we have no right 

MONT. ANIMALS II 



1 62 

to kill them all. And the mice — cunning little 
things ! it always makes my heart ache when 
Sleepy Eyes brings one to her kittens." 

" You're too soft-hearted, Mary. Either we've 
got to die or the rats have. Don't you remember 
how the rats ate up that big cheese in Paris ? " 

Mary brought her scrapbook, in which she pasted 




bits of knowledge that she cut from the news- 
papers, and this was the story she read : — 

"Some years ago, at the Great Exposition in 
Paris, there was a huge cheese shown by the 
farmers of Switzerland. It was higher than the 
walls of a large dining room. It took the milk 
of hundreds of cows to make this cheese, besides 
an immense amount of work and skill in the 
making. Eighteen horses were required to draw 
the wagon on which it was loaded. The farmers 
directed that when the Exposition was over the 
cheese should be given to the poor in Paris. 



i63 

"Accordingly, when the great show closed, a 
powerful truck drawn by eighteen horses was 
standing near, ready to carry the cheese away. 
As soon as the men tried to move it with ropes 
and pikes there was a great crash. The huge 
pile fell like a collapsed balloon. There was noth- 
ing left but an outside shell. What had done 
it ? The rats, the rats ! They had eaten the inside 
all away." 

" There ! " cried Johnny, " did the poor people 
get the cheese ? " 

" No, not the poor people," answered Mary, " but 
the poor rats got it." 

Johnny broke into a loud laugh and said : " If 
the poor rats had their way, there wouldn't be any 
poor people, or any rich people either, in Paris. 
But that was a good joke on those men and 
the eighteen horses." 

Mary had to laugh, too, and her mother joined 
in the fun. 

"After all," said the mother, soberly, "though 
rats and mice do much mischief, it would not do 
to kill them all. Too many would be bad for us, 
and not enough might be just as bad. But you, 
Johnny, made a mistake when you said all snakes 
should be killed. Some kinds of snakes kill many 
rats and mice, moles, and other harmful animals. 



164 



" Rats and mice, you know, have two pairs of 
front teeth that cut and dig like a carpenter's 
chisel. x They use these tools, not as the 

beaver does, to cut down trees for his dam 

and house, nor as the squirrel, 
to gnaw away the shell of a nut, 
but to eat holes in the farmer's 
grain room where their food is. 
This is why they are so mis- 
chievous. 

" But tools that do harm 

' may also do good. Rats and 

mice get into the pantry, it is 

true, and gnaw into a box of crackers, 

but with the same tools they make 

their way into neglected cellars, 

drains, and sewers, all of which 

they do much to keep clean. They 

eat dead animals and spoiled food 

that would create sickness. Then 

they spend much time in cleaning 

their own bodies ; for they are tidy 

in their habits. 

"One scarcely knows whether 
to admire their pluck, which has 
moved them to steal passage on ships, and thus to 
visit nearly every country in the world, or to detest 




i6 5 

them for the terror they are to sailors on shipboard. 
It is a comfort to know that they have saved life 
where there was no other food to eat, and that their 
skins make excellent gloves." 

MICE AS PETS 

It is quite a turning of the tables when the tiny 
quadruped fought by man and woman for centuries, 
says The Sun, is raised to the rank of a pet. But it 
is a fact that, for the last ten years, mice have been 
reckoned among the pets of 
England, and that some extra 
fine breeds have found their 
way across the Atlantic. The £ 
American Mouse Club has (f^~^**^J£§H/BP 
members all over the country. 

Instead of having to risk his life to gain a little 
corner in the cupboard, Master Mouse has now a 
dainty little hutch, and is fed on the fat of the 
land. Among the most interesting of these pets are 
the Chinese mice, which are much smaller than 
the common mouse, and of beautiful and delicate 
colors. 

Then there are the Japanese mice, also called 
the waltzing mice, because they never seem quite so 
happy as when dancing. Pointing their little sharp 




1 66 

noses to the ground, they whirl round and round on 
their four feet, as though life were nothing but joy. 
There are also the singing mice, with their clear, 
soft whistle. Perhaps the rarest are the Egyptian 
mice, which have little quills on their backs. 

In raising these little pets, a great point is made 
of their color. There are shiny black fellows with 
feet and tail to match ; and there are mice with soft 
fur, bright eyes, and playful disposition. These are 
especial favorites with children. Those with deep 
blue or black eyes are more highly valued than 
those with pink eyes. 

Those of entire chocolate and fawn colors are 
highly prized. The most popular ones at present 
are the cream and pale yellow mice, one of which has 
been sold for fifteen dollars. Another very pretty 
specimen has a gray body, with light silver mark- 
ings, and ears and nose of a delicate pink. 

The chief charm in having mice for pets is their 
intelligence. They may be taught many tricks, 
even to climbing a pole to bring down a tiny flag. 
They also show great affection for their owners, 
following them around, coming when called, and 
delighting to climb up their clothes to the face or 
neck, where they will nestle down and purr with 
contentment. They are very playful, and will amuse 
themselves with a piece of string as kittens do. 



167 

Their homes are made of almost any box, though 
some very artistic hutches are built for them. For 
exercise, the cage is provided with a little pole run- 
ning from floor to roof. A little above the floor is 
a shelf on which the mice run and leap. 

Mice should be fed with oats every day, with now 
and then a change of bread and milk and fresh vege- 
tables. Cheese should never be given to them. 
They should also have a basin of fresh water; for 
after eating they spend a good deal of time at their 
toilet, washing their faces, smoothing their ears, and 
cleaning their paws. 

OUR CAT AND OTHER CATS 



One good reason for giving our cat a place 
among useful animals is, that for thousands of years 
cats have had a place in human homes. Would 
people have kept any animal so long in their houses 
if it had been useless ? It is saying a good deal for 
the cat that she has borne a respectable character 
during four thousand years. 

Our cat, like our dog, has come down from wild 
forefathers. Her greatest-grandfather was the 
Egyptian tame cat, though the tabby, or brindled 
kind, is supposed to have come from the pretty 
gray, black-striped, wild cat of Europe. The Egyp- 



i68 

tians almost worshiped their cats. Do you sup- 
pose those people would have shaved off their 
eyebrows, as they did when a cat died, if the animal 
were a worthless brute ? 

Sleepy Eyes got her name from the children, who 




nearly always saw her in the daytime, when she 
looked dumpish and stupid, and the pupils of her 
eyes were almost closed. At night her eyeballs 
broaden out large and glare like moons. This is 
why the cat can see in the dark. And this is another 
reason why cats have so long been counted useful. 
They hunt at night, when dogs sleep. 

If you will take up a kitten and look over its 
weapons and tools, you will pronounce them more 



169 

deadly than those of any other animal. The teeth 
are like a dog's teeth, only sharper and more piercing. 
The claws are really terrible — sharp and hooked, 
so that they can hold what they pierce. All these 
weapons and tools are the best possible for use in 
catching and killing, and for defense. 

But the way she handles her weapons is one of 
the best things about the cat. When a dog hunts, 
he shows all his tools and makes a noise about 
his work. The cat's way is exactly the opposite. 
She is sly, stealthy, silent. She keeps her mouth 
shut, draws her claws into their sheaths, and walks 
on velvet-cushioned toes. 

When the cat crouches, and moves as silent as 
the darkness, ready in an instant to spring upon 
her prey, then she is a real lion or tiger. No 
other animal has more frightful weapons or such a 
noiseless way of using them as the cat family has. 
For these reasons the wild cats — the lions, tigers, 
leopards, and smaller wild cats — have always been 
the most destructive and the most dreadful of all 
animals. 

Now while you hold the purring kitten on your 
lap — little bit of a tiger, as she is — you must see 
how valuable is our tame cat, and why men very 
long ago tamed the most dangerous beast into 
a gentle companion. Is it not wonderful that 



170 

the wild one — the fiercest of animals — has been so 
softened in temper, and made so safe in the use 
of its deadly daggers, that it is now the harmless 
Sleepy Eyes, fast asleep upon the rug ? 

It was a great triumph to conquer such a fero- 
cious beast, and to train it to protect the food 
of man, as it does. But the cat is peculiar and 
quite different from the dog. She is more at- 
tached to the place ; the dog more to the persons 
in the home. The dog is a friend ; the cat is a 
companion. 

And this difference might be expected, since the 
cat has been allowed to keep enough of her wild 
nature to kill and eat her game, while the dog is 
trained to catch the game and bring it to his mas- 
ter. The cat is more independent than the dog. 
She hunts alone, and in that way is very useful. 

ii 

Had the wild cat never been tamed and made a 
companion in the household, who can tell what 
might have happened long before this time ? You 
know something of rats and mice, what mischief 
they make, and how rapidly they multiply when let 
alone. You may have heard how rats have stolen 
passage on ships, and thus have spread over nearly 
all the countries of the world. Read the story of the 



i7i 




/ *f?i 1 W?t. 



Rat Tower on the Rhine, and you can imagine 
what might have happened, had there been no cats. 

Wild rats were kept down by wild cats, but 
when the rats tamed themselves enough to get 
into the homes of men and plunder, cats had to be 
tamed to follow their prey into houses. So every 
nation at all civilized, living in houses and having 
stores, has had its domestic cats. 

Now you can see how much 
value there is in our cat's peculiar 
eyes. Rats and mice do their mis- 
chievous work mostly at , night. 
Some dogs are excellent ratters, but 
they work during the day. Cats, 
with their dark-lantern eyes, hunt 
at night. A dog gives up a rat 
when he has chased it into a hole. 
A cat, patiently and silently, with- 
out moving a muscle, waits before the hole till her 
game ventures out. 

Cats do their best work in storehouses and gran- 
aries, where they are not petted much, and where 
immense quantities of food are stored. But sup- 
pose the great storehouses were made of iron, 
through which these pests could not gnaw holes. 
Then there would be but one thing for the rats to 
do. They would rush all the more to the farmer's 




172 



barns and bins, and destroy the grain before it went 
to the storehouses. So, in catching the rats and 
mice, cats have been, as you see, most useful in 
protecting the world's food. 

Pussy's fur is valuable, and for this alone 
there are farms for raising black cats. But she 
becomes a different creature when she is kept only 
as a pet. Then she is prized for her beauty, her 
grace of form and action, and for her intelligent 















i 


\3 




v \. ! >. ^ 


»^^,li:iJ»„>™„,™»,.„,_™.._ „__Z38 








TIGER 



disposition. She forgets her teeth and claws and 
becomes teachable. The cat schools in England 
and France show what education may do to change 
a brutal nature. There the tabby, the tortoise-shell, 
the blue cat, and the Angora from Asia are taught 
to live with tame rats and birds, to jump through 
hoops, and even to ride the bicycle. 

Go, now, to the giants of the Old World, and 
what a contrast ! The tiger is the tyrant of the 



173 

Asiatic jungle ; the lion is the monarch of the 
African forest and plain. Of them and their 
smaller cousins little that is good can be said. 
They are always hungry, fierce, and dangerous. 
Rosa Bonheur, the noted Frenchwoman, lover and 
painter of animals, had several pet lions, who would 
allow her to fondle them as if kittens. 

Few lions and no tigers have ever been thus 
tamed. In their native haunts they are the terror 
of the people who live near them. When the Boers 
of South Africa were fighting their way north to 
found a nation for themselves, they killed not less 
than three thousand lions. In India, when a tiger 
gets old and his teeth are worn dull, he takes to 
killing men, women, and children. Every year 
these man eaters kill about a thousand people. 

The pelts of these giants are dressed into mag- 
nificent robes ; but at how great a cost ! 

CLOTHES MOTH AND SILK MOTH 

The little clothes moth, less than half an inch 
long, is considered a nuisance in the house. The 
silk moth, more than twice as large, is praised for 
its virtues. Each is known by its work, though 
the smaller one is seldom seen, and the larger one 
never visits the house. 



174 




The harmful one shall help us to understand 
the useful one, as the good and bright Cinderella 
in the story is more clearly seen in the shadow of 
her vain and mischievous sisters. The clothes 
moth destroys clothes ; the silk moth makes clothes, 
or rather the material for useful and beautiful gar- 
ments. But both are 
busy workers, and, 
like flies and butter- 
flies, are insects. 

The work of in- 
sects cannot be under- 
stood without know- 
ing something of their strange babyhood. There 
is but one stage in the babyhood of the sheep. 
The lamb is born alive and is like its mother 
as soon as it is born. In the babyhood of the 
chicken are two stages, the egg, and the chick 
with feet and wings and other parts like its mother, 
as soon as it is hatched. 

The baby life of the moth and of many other 
insects has four stages. First, the egg, and from it 
an ugly, crawling caterpillar. Then, after getting 
several new skins, the caterpillar changes into a 
doll, or pupa, inclosing itself in a case of silk. 
And last, the pupa case breaks open, and out comes 
a winged moth in every way like the mother that 



175 



laid the egg. All this may have happened within 
about a month. 

The mischief or useful work done by the moth 
is not when it is the egg, nor when it is abroad 
with wings. The egg has no action, nor does the 
doll in the pupa case 
appear to act. It is 
the middle thing — 
the crawling, growing 
caterpillar that is al- 
ways eating, day and 
night — that does the 
bad business or pre- 
pares for the good 
work. 

If you could only 
see this little pirate 
clothes moth as she 
goes out in a May 
night on her errand 
of plunder ! She is 
after woolen clothes — the finer, the better — and 
carpets, and fine furs. In these she lays her eggs, 
and as she lays perhaps some hundreds of them, 
she visits all the woolen and fur garments she can 
find, deposits her eggs, and is off. 

Why does she choose woolen goods ? Because 




176 

wool is the food of her babes. How she knows 
woolen cloth from cotton or linen, no one can ex- 
plain. In a few days the caterpillars are hatched and 
begin to eat. They grow fat, and the clothes are 
riddled with holes, as if shot with a shotgun. After 
another few days, each caterpillar weaves a silken 
case around itself, and spins a lining of the finest 
silk. Then, shortly, the case splits open, and a full- 
dressed moth flies away to repeat the work of its 
mother. 

One cannot but admire the motherly way in 
which this winged pirate, with no evil purpose, 
provides for her coming children. But, as it 
happens, her evil doing is turned to good account. 
For there is no creature in the world that creates 
so great a commotion as do these small clothes 
eaters. 

From fear of their coming, householders the world 
over beat their carpets and clothes and furs, and 
clean out closets and drawers. In so doing they, 
get rid, not only of the moth's eggs, but of dust 
and dirt that contain the germs of disease. 

After all, this is good work, and the wicked 
clothes moth begins to look like an angel of light, 
cleanness, and health. She has set the world in 
commotion and caused it to be cleaned up. In 
about six weeks she is dead and gone. 



177 



The story of the silk moth is nearly all told in 
the history of the clothes moth. The silk moth, 
or silkworm, as it is usually called, is not a wild 
insect, and has been so long under human care 
that it is not known when or where it was first 
confined. 

It is human care, however, that controls the silk- 
worm's work and 
makes it good. Were 
this moth left free, 
its large caterpillars 
would destroy certain 
kinds of plants, and 
would themselves be 
an easy prey to birds. 
But so lonp- has it 
been dependent on 
the help of men that 
its wings have lost power, and it must be housed 
and fed. It is handled, and its eggs are gathered 
like hens' eggs. 

The eo-o-s of the silkworm, like those of other 
insects, are laid on the food which the caterpillars 
eat. The leaves of the mulberry tree provide this 
food, which is spread on tables for the cater- 
pillars to crawl and feed upon. They are enormous 
eaters, and, when grown, each begins to change into 

MONT. ANIMALS — I 2 




1 7 8 

a pupa. Out of its own body it spins a delicate 
thread of silk, which it winds around and around 
itself until it is entirely inclosed and glued. The 
pupa case is called a cocoon. 

It is said that the silkworm turns leaves into silk, 
but not without help. Just when the cocoon is 
formed, human fingers take hold, as they did in 
feeding the caterpillars and keeping them clean. 
The cocoons, about the shape and size of peanuts, are 
collected, then heated to destroy the pupas within, 
and afterward the silk is unwound and reeled upon 
spools. It is then ready for weaving in the loom. 

Wherever the mulberry tree will thrive, these silk- 
worms can be kept. China is the oldest silk- 
raising country. France and Italy have for a long 
time sent us their silk thread to weave, and the 
finest of satins, silks, and velvets are woven from 
this delicate, glossy fiber. 

Forty years ago almost all our silk goods were 
made abroad. Now nearly all are made at home. 
Thousands of people, mostly women, are employed 
in silk raising, and thousands more in silk weaving. 

Most valuable of all insects are these humble, 
tender worms. They spin a floss which gives health, 
comfort, and beauty to human life. They set in 
motion thousands of feet and fingers, and help a 
great multitude to earn their bread. 



179 




AN HOUR WITH THE BEES 



The apple trees were dressed in the blossoms of 
May when Tony Grant left home to pay another 
visit to Mary and John Burns. Their mother had 
suggested that Tony be invited at this time. As it 
was the beginning of the bee season, the children 
and their friends in the Bonny Club were giving 
attention to bees, and Tony's father was a successful 
bee keeper. 

It was while they were talking of this visit of the 
country boy that Mary said to her mother : " Isn't 
it queer, Mamma, that Tony knows so little about 



i So 

the birds and other animals he sees about him all 
the time ? I almost believe country children know 
less about country things than city children do 
about city things, and I shall not be surprised if 
Tony has little to say about bees except that they 
make honey." 

" Yes, it does seem a little queer, as you say," 
said her mother, " but people on farms work so 
hard and so long in the fields that they have little 
time or desire to study what is interesting and beau- 
tiful about them. But then, how much do city 
children know of how electric cars are run, how the 
telephone works, or how gas is made ? " 

When Tony came, Mary found that he knew 
more than she expected. He brought something 
that was a great surprise to his friends, and to some 
members of the club who were invited to spend an 
hour with Tony and the bees. 

In one hand he brought three living bees, each 
in a wire cage, and in the other a bunch of apple 
blossoms. The children crowded around the table 
to get a peep at the prisoners behind the bars. 

Tony took up one of the cages and explained 
that the prisoner was the queen, who leads the bee 
company, lays all the eggs, and is the mother of all. 
In the next cage he showed the drone, who loafs, 
is fed, and does no work; and in the third cage 




i8i 

the worker, who gathers and makes the honey and 

does all the work. This lesson Tony had learned 

from his father, who prepared the cages 

for him. Beyond this Tony confessed 

that he knew little of bees. He liked 

honey, but having once been stung 

he kept away from the hives. 

ii 

It fell to Mrs. Burns, therefore, to give such 
knowledge as she had gathered from bee keepers. 
She told how the bees live in colonies. Wild bees 
raise their young and store their 
honey in hollow trees and rocks, 
but domesticated bees have wooden 
) hives made for them. The work- 
ers go out in search of flowers, from 
which they suck the sweet juice and make it into 
honey and wax. With the wax they make combs, 
in which are nursery cells and honey cells. 

The queen lays an egg in each nursery or baby 
cell, which the workers close up, leav- 
ing a small hole to let in the air. In 
a few clays white grubs are hatched 
from the eggs, as are caterpillars from ('_: 
moth eggs. The workers feed sweet 
food to the grubs. But the grubs, like the cater- 





182 

pillars, soon spin cocoons around themselves, and 
not long afterward the cocoons open and perfect 
bees come forth. 

The grubs in a few large cells are fed with very 
rich food, which makes them grow into queens. So 
bees make their own mother queens. As soon as 
each new queen appears she takes w T ith her a colony 
of the common bees, and goes out to set up a new 
home. This is called the swarming of the bees. 

" You cannot spend all your time on the curi- 
ous ways of these wonderful creatures," said Mrs. 
Burns, " so I will tell you how they are made use- 
ful to us. What are the bees working for? For 
themselves, of course, but also to feed the queen, the 
drones, and the young. They fly miles away to 
find flowers, and, having filled themselves with 
honey, return home in a straight line. It is believed 
that they can see a very long distance, but how they 
strike a direct line for their hives is a mystery. 

in 

" Bees to be useful must be protected and con- 
trolled by men. If left to themselves, a great deal of 
honey and wax is wasted and lost. Bears, raccoons, 
and other enemies rob the homes of wild bees. 
Even domesticated bees, if neglected, swarm and fly 
away to seek homes in the woods. In Southern 



i»3 



California they get into the roofs of churches and 
store tons of honey which cannot be reached. 

" But when controlled by care and skill, bees are 
improved in many ways, and what they produce is 
saved. They know their keepers, who handle them 
like chickens. Hives are made for them. The 
queen bees are caught, and each new swarm is put 
into a separate hive. They feed near home, on or- 
chard blossoms, 



the flowers of the 
garden, and of 
grain. 

" Their keepers 
drive away their 
enemies — rats, 
mice, moths, and 
birds — and keep 
the hives clean. 




iLJ 




For this care and help the bees make a great quan- 
tity of honey besides that which they need for them- 
selves. Another time you can find out how bees 
cause flowers to bear seed. Tony can now tell us 
something of the hives in which his fathers bees 
are kept." 

Tony blushed a little at being called upon so 
suddenly, but he described the hive very well. 
" It is a little square, wooden house with two sto- 



1 84 

ries. In the lower part the bees make wax, raise 
their young bees, and store honey for their own food. 
In the upper story there are frames w 7 hich easily slip 
in and out. The bees fill these with honeycomb, full 
of honey sealed up tight. There are little glass 
windows in the sides of the hive, so that one can 
see when a frame is filled." 

Mrs. Burns added that some jf the honey is sold 
in the comb in small frames, but that most of it is 
thrown out of the comb by swiftly revolving ma- 
chines. One can never be sure, however, that this 
extracted article is pure honey, because it is often 
mixed with other sweets. For the rest she advised 
the children to find out for themselves the many 
articles made of beeswax. 

USEFUL SINGING BIRDS 



In summer the orchards, groves, and woods 
would be lonely and cheerless without the singing 
birds. Many people do not notice the presence of 
the musicians in the trees, but if the song birds 
were suddenly taken away, everybody would feel 
that something was wrong. 

On the Pacific Coast there are few singing birds, 
and for want of them the groves seem dreary as 



i8 S 

one walks among them. For this reason, and for 
one other reason, a bird society in Oregon, some 
years ago, brought from Europe about three hundred 
pairs of what the society called " useful singing 
birds." Among these were the skylark and the 
nightingale, of which the poets have sung. 

These foreigners in feathers were needed, first, to 
make joyous music among the voiceless trees, and 
next, to destroy insects that injure the fields of grain 
and the orchards of fruit. For the farmers were 
greatly plagued by butterflies, moths, and their cat- 
erpillars. The birds were let loose from their cages, 
and at once scattered in all directions, building 
nests and raising their young. The w 7 ork of the 
society was reported as very successful. 

In the states east of the Rocky Mountains there 
is no lack of singing birds, except for reasons that 
this story will refer to. 

In a certain uptown school in the city of New 
York, a class of girls and boys had been enjoying 
a course of nature study, which brought the class 
to the subject of singing birds at the beginning of 
June, when the birds are singing and w r orking. 

Central Park is the home of over a hundred 
kinds of native birds, and the class was only too 
happy to accept an invitation to visit this protected 
bird home. So, promptly at a given hour, the chil- 



1 86 

dren were led by their teacher along beds of gay 
June flowers and grassy lawns, until they came 
to the Ramble, which is the favorite retreat of the 
birds. 

Out on the green lawn near the Ramble were a 
great many robins, — vigorous birds more than twice 
as large as canaries. These lusty robins were hop- 
ping, then stopping as if to show their red breasts, 
and bobbing their heads up and down as they thrust 
their slender bills into the grass. What wefe they 
doing? The teacher explained that it was too late 
to hear their morning chorus of song, and that the 
birds were only getting their breakfast of grubs and 
worms. 

" Many grubs, caterpillars, and worms," said the 
teacher, "are harmful to the grass and trees, and in 
the orchard and garden they destroy fruits and 
vegetables. These pests are delicious food for the 
robins, which are getting their meal early, not only 
because they are hungry, but because they have 
learned by experience that ' the early bird gets the 
worm ' ; for these crawling things go into hiding as 
the sun grows hotter." 

The party was entering the Ramble, when they 
heard clear, flutelike notes from a tree top near. 
" What bird is that ? " asked the children. 

" It is one of our robins," answered the teacher. 



.187 

" He has finished his breakfast and is singing for 
joy. He makes music before work and after 
work." 



ii 

As they went farther along into the deeper shade 
of the Ramble, they heard a different note, from a 
bird moving among the dense foliage. 
This bird's motions were quick, and 
it warbled with every change 
of place. 

" Why, that must be an- 
other robin," exclaimed 
Mary Burns, for she 
was there with her note- 
book. 

' " No," replied the teacher, who 
was at home with birds, u the 
notes are a little like the robin's, 
but feebler and more broken. 
It is an oriole, though he hides 
himself as yet. He is not so 
large as the robin, and is called the 
Baltimore oriole, because his rich colors 
are those which were worn by Lord Baltimore, the 
first governor of Maryland." 

" There ! " cried one of the girls, " I see it ! Its 




feathers are black and it has an orange-colored 
breast. Oh, I am sure I have seen the oriole's 
feathers on the hat of a lady I know." 

"Very likely you have/' said the teacher; "many 
beautiful orioles and other birds of gay colors have 
been killed to adorn ladies' hats." 

" It is a shame ! " cried Mary. " But why is this 
bird so shy ? Why doesn't it show its gay colors ? 

They are so 
gorgeous ! " 

" That is just 
why it doesn't 
show itself," an- 
swered the teacher. 
^7 " The robin's dark 

feathers protect it from 
notice on the ground, but 
the flaming coat of the oriole exposes it to danger 
from hawks and shotguns. You observed how 
quickly Amy discovered the bird among the leaves, 
and noticed that the feathers were like those on the 
hat of her friend. The bird doesn't want to be seen, 
and the lady does. But the killing of these and thou- 
sands of other useful singers is dreadful business." 

So the children thought and said, as they sat 
down on the benches to rest. After a while, the 
teacher called their attention to what the oriole was 




1 8g 

doing; for it was working as well as warbling. 
" You see it is picking something from the branches 
and leaves. It is getting its breakfast of caterpillars 
and insects, as the robins were, only it is hunting 
in the trees for such food as they took from the 
ground. But, listen a minute!" 

There sounded through the dense shade where 
they sat the sweetest tune — two notes with an 
upward slide, and two with a downward cadence. 
" Pe-wee, pe-w r ee," sang the bird. The children 
were charmed, but the teacher told them to keep 
still. In a moment a little dusky bird, like a canary 
in size, lighted on a bough in full view, blowing 
the same tune from its pipe to tell where it 
was. 

Suddenly the pewee flew straight up into the air, 
and, having caught a flying butterfly, dropped again 
on the branch, repeating its tune. 

" You saw what the pewee did ? " said the 
teacher. " It catches harmful insects in the air, 
and sings between its captures. You are now 7 
acquainted with three of the many useful singing 
birds. All are birds of the air and of the trees. 
One gets its food mostly on the ground ; one on 
the trees ; and one in the air on the wing. These 
are but three of the many singers that help us 
by their song and by their work." 



190 



HOUSE SPARROW AND CANARY 



Our little house sparrows have spread rapidly 
over the country. Forty years ago there were 
none here ; now there are a great many millions. 
They have traveled from the Atlantic to the Pacific 
coast. This is astonishing when you think what a 
rough-and-tumble life they have lived. 

Only a few pairs were at first brought across the 
ocean. They were called English spar- 
rows because they came from England ; 
but they live nearly everywhere in 
Europe. Not for their beauty or 
for their song were they 
brought across the 
ocean. Strangely 
enough, they have no song. Could 
you see one of them by the side of 
our native song sparrow, or tree spar- 
row, you would say the two were alike. Both have 
the short, stout bill that belongs to seed-eating 
birds; not the soft, long bill of the robin, that 
catches worms and caterpillars for food. 

It is thought that the house sparrow was once 
a bird of the bush and of the tree, like our singing 
sparrows. No one knows just when or how he 




changed from the old habits of his kind, came into the 
town and the city to live, and lost his singing voice. 
This we do know 7 : that the young of our singing 
birds learn their songs by imitating the voices of 
their parents. Young robins have been reared in 
cages placed near singing birds of a different kind, 
and have thus learned a song not at all like the 
song of their fathers. 

Why did the house sparrow come to live in the 
town and the city? It is not hard to tell why — it 
came to get food. The worm-eating robin and some 
of the seed-eating sparrows go south to spend the 
winter, not to get away from winter because it is 
cold, but because the frost and snow destroy and 
cover up their food. The forefathers of the house 
sparrows were smart enough to find that by staying 
in town they could pick up a good living in the 
streets and around the houses, and so save a long 
and dangerous journey to the South. 

So they changed their old sparrow life and began 
to build their nests under the eaves of dwelling 
houses, in nooks of barns, in holes, and in boxes. In 
this w r ay they were separated from singing birds, and 
were left to imitate only the harsh noises of the 
street. In this new life they learned how to get in 
everybody's way, and how to get out of the way 
without being hurt. It is not strange that a great 



192 

cry went up against these noisy foreigners with 
wings, when they began to litter the verandas and 
became so impudent in getting their food. 

11 

Why, then, were these sparrows brought over from 
Europe ? This was done when the cankerworms 
and tent caterpillars were trying to destroy our fruit 
trees and shade trees. " But," said many wise 
people, "these little ruffians drive away robins and 
singing birds, and besides, they are seed eaters, not 
worm eaters." Now that they have battled for their 
life so long, and are so many and so plucky, we find 
much to be said in their favor. 

Only the other day, I watched a house sparrow 
wrestling with a cracker which a child had dropped 
on the pavement near the park. A dog came along 
and claimed the morsel. The sparrow picked it up 
and flew to a bush. The dog passed on. The 
sparrow dropped to the ground and began again to 
break the cracker. Then a wicked moth flew over. 
The sparrow darted into the air, caught the moth, 
swallowed it, and once more attacked the cracker. 

The house sparrows are seed eaters, it is true, 
but like all seed-eating birds they also eat many de- 
structive insects and worms. And they must have 
worms for their young in the nest, because the bird- 



193 

lings cannot eat grain. So, notwithstanding the 
house sparrow's saucy ways, and his plundering of 
berries and grapes in their season, he does destroy 
a great many injurious insects. A naturalist watched 
a pair carrying food to their family. In half an 
hour they had brought to the nest over a hundred 
fly grubs, besides catching fourteen flies on the 
wing. 

To the credit of the house sparrow, it must not 
be forgotten that he is in town all the year round, 
and always at work. He cleans the street and the 
back yard, and takes away the scattered food on 
which flies and other pests thrive. 

But the best thing about these busy scavengers 
is the way they work and fight for one another. 
Under the lamp of an electric light pole a pair of 
sparrows had their nest, and their young were learn- 
ing to fly. By accident, one of the young birds 
dropped to the ground, when a dog, the terror of all 
the other dogs in the neighborhood, sprang after the 
helpless waif to make a meal of it. Instantly the 
parent birds attacked the head of the heartless dog 
and tried to peck his eyes. In another instant their 
cries of distress brought at least twenty of their 
comrades to the rescue. Together they pecked the 
brute on all sides, and in every part, until he was 
glad to get away for his own safety. 

MOM". ANIMALS I 3 



194 



in 



Now turn to the canary in the cage. He seems 
to like his narrow quarters, for he is nearly always 
in good spirits. The house sparrow's business is 
that of a street cleaner and insect killer. His 
squeaking note is in keeping with the rattling, 
rasping noises of the street; but the canary's business 

is to sing sweetly, 
,| | and to say to the 
family, " Be of 
good cheer ! " 

Perhaps you 
think the canary 
in the cage is an 
imprisoned bar- 
barian, caught in 
the woods, and tamed as the mocking bird and red- 
bird are tamed. This is not so. Its forefathers 
were captured more than four hundred years ago. 
Since then, the merry singers have been raised in 
confinement. They have lost the ways of wild 
birds, and have gained the habit of singing in all 
seasons more than any wild bird. 

Most of the canaries are bred among the Hartz 
Mountains, in Germany, and the raising of them 
makes busy work for thousands of peasants. They 
labor to produce fine singers, though they are not 




195 

careless of fine forms and feathers. In hundreds of 
cottages, which dot the hills and valleys of the bird 
district for many miles distant, the work of select- 
ing, mating, and feeding the birds and their young 
goes on in summer and in winter. Men skilled 
in the business, and called pickers, spend their 
time going from house to house to gather up the 
young singers and bring them to the training school. 

To sing the best songs, canaries must be trained. 
If left to themselves, they will learn to repeat any 
sounds which they hear frequently. Thus they 
acquire " choppy " notes that are not pleasant to 
the ear. The school is carried on by men and 
women, but the teachers, the "professors," as they 
are called — who are they? They are feathered, like 
the pupils, and are the best and most accomplished 
singers to be found. 

The young birds brought in by the pickers are 
put into cages, each with a " professor," and there 
they learn to imitate the notes of a .real artist, not 
broken or choppy notes, but musical, flowing, and 
sweet. Birds so trained bring high prices. 

Many people are also employed in making the 
small wicker cages in which the birds are sent to 
market — to other countries in Europe, and to 
America. 

Healthy birds only are shipped to America, and 



196 

the care of fifteen hundred singers on the voyage is 
a hard task for one skillful man. He must rise 
early in the morning to clean the cages and pro- 
vide breakfast for these hundreds of hungry bills. 
He must watch every sign of disease. He must 
guard against the ship rats, which find the place 
of the birds by their song and chirping, but care 
nothing for their music — only for their precious 
little bodies. So the bird tender has long, anxious 
work and but little sleep. 

FOWLS OF THE FARM 

1 

All animals that have feathers are birds. There 
are birds of the air, birds of the land, and birds of 
the water. They lay eggs, as do fishes, snakes, and 
flies. Birds are very different from sheep, cows, 
dogs, and from all other animals that give milk but 
do not lay eggs. 

The horse and cow eat large food, large quantities 
of grass, bundles of hay, and boxes of grain. But 
there is small food that would go to waste were it 
not for the birds. They eat the kernels of grain 
which the horse scatters, the seeds blown every- 
where by the wind, and the insects that hide in 
the cornfield and in the garden. 



197 



For this purpose birds have a peculiar set of 
tools. A cow cannot pick up a single kernel of corn, 
nor can a dog catch a grasshopper; but a chicken 
can do both. It has a sharp, pointed bill for pick- 
ing up small things, and scratching claws for uncov- 
ering worms in the ground. The duck has a flat 
bill to scoop up food from 
the muddy bottom of a 
pond, and webbed feet to 
paddle with. 

Birds yield some peculiar 
products which no other 
animals give. Cows mow 
the grass and give us meat, 
milk, and leather. Chickens 
pick up the small food and 
give us meat, eggs, and 
feathers. We need the 
chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese ; we need their 
meat, their eggs, and their feathers. 

Eggs are wonderful food. They take the place 
of both meat and milk. After they have been laid 
they are easily gathered, handled, packed, trans- 
ported, and cooked. Have you ever tried to think 
how many eggs the people of the United States eat 
in one day ? They eat a greater number of eggs 
in one day than you can count in a whole year. 




198 

Feathers are light, warm, and beautiful. They 
are in every house, and very near to our dreams. 
They are on the girls' hats. The Red Man's king 
was crowned with feathers, and the gay garments of 
his people were adorned with them. Far away in 
the cold regions of the North the Eskimos are busy 
plucking the softest of feathers from the nests of 
the eider duck. As many people are hunting and 
raising African ostriches for their delicate plumes. 
These are the most costly feathers. 

But the birds of the world could never supply 
the fowls, eggs, and feathers that are called for, 
if skill and industry did not help and improve 
the birds. So the poultry business has grown 
immensely, and fowls are made to produce very 
much more than they did in early times. To see 
how this is done, take a peep at a poultry farm. 

11 

Mr. Grant laid out, at great expense, poultry 
yards, chicken houses, and duck houses. Tony 
took such a deep interest in the enterprise that his 
father allowed the boy to think it was his own ; and 
indeed Tony w r orked very hard and talked rather 
large about his " business." When everything was 
in running order he invited Johnny and Mary to 
visit him. 



199 

How delighted they were with the sight! Tony, 
like a general manager, showed them through the 
whole " business." They stepped into the dark 
nest room where the hens stole softly in and laid 
their eggs in boxes lined with clean earth and 
straw. For the first time they heard a hen cackle 
with joy, after she had. laid her egg, and a rooster 
answer her music with a louder, more melodious 
note. 

Then they went into the hatching room where 
large hens were sitting on their nests. Tony lifted 
one from her nest and uncovered sixteen eggs. 
" What ! " exclaimed Mary, " so many eggs in one 
nest ? How long does the hen sit before the chicks 
are hatched ? " 

Tony explained that it took three weeks for hens' 
eggs to hatch ; and while Johnny looked on in 
silent interest, Mary said: " How strange it is! The 
hens must get very hungry and tired sitting still so 
long." She touched the eggs and found them warm. 

" This way," said Tony, opening a door looking 
out upon a small yard where were food, water, and a 
heap of sand. " Here," said he, " the hens take a 
recess for an hour or so every day — eat and drink 
and roll in the sand. Now let me show you a hen 
that doesn't get tired." 

The children were full of curiosity as they has- 



200 

tened to enter another hatching room. There they 
saw nicely finished cabinets, like show cases, with 
glass in the sides. They looked through the glass 
and saw eggs arranged in rows ; tiny chicks and 
empty shells ; chicks with their heads just out of the 
shell ; and little bills sticking through other shells. 
Tony had wisely planned for their visit at hatching 
time. 

The children were astonished. Johnny was quite 
startled for him. " What is this ? " he asked. " This 
isn't a hen ! You must be joking." 

" But where did you get all these eggs ? " Mary 
wanted to know. " Your hens didn't lay them, I am 
sure." 

" No, I buy the eggs of other farmers," answered 
Tony. " If real hens had to hatch the eggs, there 
wouldn't be chickens enough for the people to eat ; 
and then if hens had to do all the hatching, there 
would not be enough left to lay all the eggs the 
people want. You see if we do not let a hen sit, 
she goes on laying eggs, and perhaps lays a hundred 
and fifty in a year. Yes, this is my hen that doesn't 
grow tired ; we call her an incubator, and these four 
incubators hold six hundred eggs." 

" A jolly old hen is this," said Johnny, laughing, 
" and you don't have to feed her." 

" Oh, yes, I do," said Tony, quickly. " Look 



201 



here ! " He then showed them a lamp, with a ther- 
mometer attached, that is kept burning for three 
weeks, to keep the incubator at the same degree of 
heat. " This is the way the old hen is fed," he added. 



in 

Then the visitors were led to the coops where 
were hens brooding little chicks. 
Mary was deeply affected by see- 
ing the old hens coddle the 
young things under their 
wings. " But, Tony 
she cried, " what do 
those poor little in- 
cubator chicks do ? " 

So back they 
went to the 
hatching house. 
Tony opened 
one of the incu- 
bators and put 

three little chicks, now ready to be taken away, 
into Mary's hands. Then he led his friends into 
still another room, where steam pipes were laid a 
little above the floor. There were many little ones 
already nestling under the pipes, and Mary put hers 
there. 




202 



" This is the mother," said Tony. " It's a steam 
mother, and is just as good as one with feathers 
and wings." 

After visiting the ducks at the pond, the geese in 
their pasture, eating grass, and the turkeys roaming 
with their broods over the meadows, the children re- 
turned to the house. Here they met Tony's father, 
who, he said, helped him in the business. From 

him they learned how 
ducks are fattened for 
market ; that geese live 
long lives, make a 
great deal of noise 
while they live, and 
that their feathers are 
plucked twice a year. 
After Mr. Grant had 
answered many ques- 
tions he took from his pocket a small pearl-handled 
knife with a sharp blade. " What do you call 
such a knife ? " he asked. 

" A penknife," said Johnny, promptly. 
" Why do you call it a penknife ? " asked Mr. 
Grant. 

To this there was no answer, and Mr. Grant 
said, " I'll tell you why." He took from a vase a 
large goose quill, — a feather that had been pulled 




203 

from the wing of a goose, — and whittled the end 
of it into a pen. 

" There, Johnny," he said, " take this home with 
you, and you will find that it will write very well. 
This knife is not used to make pens nowadays, for 
our pens are made of steel, but its name tells an 
interesting history. When my father was a boy, 
all pens were made from quills, and with a penknife. 
The children at school had to learn how to make 
their own pens. But the geese made the quills. 
So you see that geese and feathers have done a 
great deal to educate the world." 

OSTRICH FARMS 

The most graceful and costly plumes come from 
the African ostrich, just as the best ivory comes 
from the African elephant. The ostrich is the 
largest of all birds, so large that a boy can ride him 
if he can g^et on the bird's back, and sometimes he 
can. It is a swift runner, and is more than a match 
for a swift horse. When in full speed its steps are 
twenty feet long. 

No animal with feathers is more famous; and it 
seems rather odd that so mighty a bird should get 
its fame on account of the feathers on its wings and 
tail rather than for its strength and speed. 



204 



Thousands of years ago ostrich plumes were worn 
by the kings of Egypt, and were made into splen- 
did fans for the ladies of Rome. Even to this day 
the native kings and chiefs of Africa adorn them- 
selves with these feathers, and they are so bril- 
liant, so glossy, and so delicately curled that they 
are very much in demand for ladies' dress the 
world over. 

It is troublesome to get them, however, for 

wild ostriches 
are not easily 
caught. Many 
horses have 
been tired out, 
one after an- 
other, running 
down a single 
bird. So the 
idea was started 
to catch and confine a few of them, and otherwise 
treat them as geese are treated. 

Ostrich farms were first tried in South Africa, 
and from them were brought over the few birds 
with which American farms were begun in Florida 
and Southern California. These poor pilgrims 
were seasick during the whole voyage to Califor- 
nia. Many of them died on shipboard, and those 




205 

that were left died soon after they were landed. 
Fortunately some eggs had been laid, and from 
these were hatched healthy, happy creatures that 
were never seasick or homesick. 

In their native home, ostriches travel a dozen 
miles or more daily in search of grass to eat. On 
the farm the grass or hay is brought to them cut up 
fine. The wild ostrich hen lays one huge egg, in 
a sandy hole, every other day. The hatching begins 
w^hen fifteen eggs have been laid, and a pair of birds 
take turns in brooding them. When an ostrich's 
egg is placed beside a hen's egg, its great size is 
seen. It weighs about three pounds. 

On the farm the farmer takes a hand in the hatch- 
ing. As soon as the ostrich hen has laid an egg, the 
farmer removes it from the nest. The hen, though a 
stupid bird, never gives up her dream of a happy 
brood of chicks, and keeps on laying until she has 
laid perhaps eighty eggs. From time to time the 
eggs are placed in an incubator, and in forty days 
the downy chicks are hatched. Their life goes on 
smoothly for three years, or until their feathers grow. 

The choice plumes of the grown ostrich adorn his 
wings and tail. He is unwilling to part with them, 
and, like a vicious horse, defends them by kicking 
with his powerful feet. Placed in a box stall he 
grows furious. But when a stocking has been 



206 

drawn over his head and eyes, the bird submits qui- 
etly to being plucked, which fortunately gives little 
pain, as the plumes are taken with shears. 

An dstrich is not full grown until it is four 
years old, but it may live eighty years. A 
good bird produces a pound of feathers each year, 
but that pound is .worth sixty dollars. Prepar- 
ing the feathers for the hats, capes, and boas of 
women is a great business in itself. The clean- 
ing, the starching, the dyeing, and the piecing 
together of small feathers so as to make large 

plumes, is a 
work of skill 
and art. 

Besides the 
profitable crop 
of feathers pro- 
duced, the os- 
trich farm is an 
amusing show 
for the visitor. 
The performers 
are such odd, awkward, gawky creatures. They 
march and whirl, and then suddenly break into 
a ludicrous dance or waltz. Again they stretch 
their long necks over the fence and pick a ribbon 
or a flower from a lady's hat, or a lighted cigar from 




207 

a man's lips. These, with nails, screws, and buttons, 
they swallow as if they were dainty morsels. 

The only time an ostrich allows itself to be 
petted is during its chickhood, from the moment 
it leaves the eggshell until it gets its first real feath- 
ers in the place of its bristling down. 

" There are not many young animals prettier 
than the ostrich chick," says an observer. " It has 
such a sweet, innocent baby face, such large eyes, 
and such a plump, round little body. All its move- 
ments are comical, and there is an air of conceit 
about the tiny creature which is most amusing." 

ARE ANY ANIMALS USELESS? 
i 

It would take too lonor to tell all that the chil- 
dren and their helpers said after the question was 
asked, Are any animals useless? The children 
agreed that the growling, ferocious beasts, such as 
tigers, bears, and wolves, and the biting, stinging 
things, such as flies, fleas, mosquitoes, and spiders, 
do nothing but harm. They resolved to take the 
question to Uncle Frank. 

Uncle Frank was a genial old man, with long, 
flowing gray hair. He was a great student and 
spent most of the time in his "den," as lie called it, 



208 

surrounded by piles of books and papers. But 
every bright day he sat in the park where the 
children of the neighborhood flocked around him 
to listen to his wise and odd talk. 

He was sitting there, with his hat off, under his 
large umbrella, when the girls and boys asked him 
the question. He smiled, and his eyes brightened, 
for he had a subject before him that was near his 
heart. 

" I see," he said, " you are puzzled as I once was. 
I will try to fill a few nutshells which you may 
carry home. What you know about the big ani- 
mals which you think are useless you have got by 
reading. But some of the stinging insects you 
know by experience. Let us begin with these." 
Then Uncle Frank began very bluntly : — 

" One good thing these pests do is to make 
people scratch themselves," he said. 

" Oh, oh ! " cried the children in astonishment, 
for this was the very thing that led them to hate 
the insects. Uncle Frank explained. 

" Not for you, but for some people, it is necessary 
to fret the skin with the finger nails. To live and 
to be well, the pores or little holes in the skin must 
be kept open. There are people in Africa, and 
some in America, too, who scarcely ever wash 
themselves, or rub their skin with coarse towels, as 



209 



you do. The biting insects compel such people to 
open the little chimneys in their skins by scratch- 
ing." 

" Then why do the horrid things bite us ? " asked 
the children. 

" Plain enough," replied Uncle Frank. " It is a 
law of nature that those who do well must often 
suffer with those who do ill. The mosquito only 
does as her na- 
ture tells her to. 
She has fine tools 
on her head to 
pierce the skin 
with. She feeds 
on blood, and she 
is going to get 
the first blood 
she finds, whether under a clean skin or a dirty 
skin. Of course she must like to taste of a soft 
little white hand, like this one I am holding in 
mine. But she is honest. She gives you warning 
of her visit by singing in your ears a sweet, lovely 
tune." 

"An awful tune!" exclaimed the children; "it 
is as bad as the bite. It's horrible ! " cried one of 
them. " When I hear the music I know the bite is 
coming, and I get dreadfully nervous." 




mont. animals- 



14 



210 



II 

"Well," said Uncle Frank, joining in the 
laughter, " I will say some good, sober words for 
the mosquito, though it is said that she spreads 
disease by her bite. I must tell you that plants and 
animals were on the earth a long, long time before 
men were born. During all that period, plants and 
animals were growing and working, living and 
dying, and making a home for men, who were to 
come. 

" Plants grow by feeding on something in the 
ground and in the air ; animals by feeding on 
plants and on other animals. It is natural for 
plants and animals to die, and their death has done 
much to prepare the earth for men. 

" No animals ever lived, I think, that were not 
at some time useful, though some now seem to 
be useless, and we may have to get rid of them. 
We must get rid of mosquitoes if we can. But 
the death of some animals, as well as of some plants, 
has done good. The coal we burn is made of dead 
plants, and one kind of stone for building houses is 
composed of very small water animals. 

"It is the flesh eaters and blood suckers that 
you dislike so much. I think I can show you, how- 
ever, that even they have done good for the world 
in the past, and are doing good now. 



211 



" You know that trees and small plants, like 
grass, grow from seeds. But how was the seed 
scattered so that the forests spread over the hills 
and the grass over the hills and plains ? Some 
bird, perhaps a pigeon, filled its crop with acorns, 
and some ground bird, like the quail, filled its 
stomach with grass seed. 

" Then an eagle or a hawk sailing overhead 
pounced upon the seed eater and carried it off to 
some distant hill to feast upon, like little Jack 
Horner eating his Christmas pie. The ravenous 
bird wanted only the flesh of his victim, and so he 
scattered the seeds on the ground, where they 
sprouted and grew into oaks and grass. 

" Look at those horses trotting so briskly on the 
hard pavements. Not a foot in the world could 
do such work so well as the horse's hard, horny 
hoof. How firmly it holds the steel shoe. Do 
you know what sort of an animal our horses and 
tough little donkeys came from? You don't know? 
Then I will tell you. 

" It was a piglike animal about the size of a half- 
grown sheep, and its foot ended in a claw 
with four toes. This ugly animal lived in a 
swampy jungle. Its clawed feet did good 
service in the soft ground filled with brush 
and water plants. All sorts of animals, great 




212 



and small, were there, including your mosquito 
friends and other horrid creatures. 

" The pygmy horse and other plant eaters were 
game and food for the flesh eaters. So the mos- 
quitoes worried and stung, and the wild cats and 
wild dogs harried and killed, until the strongest of 
the pygmies were driven out on the grassy plains 
and the rocky hills. Then what happened ? 

" Having a chance to run on the harder ground, 
the feet of the animals began to change, and to 
become hard, just as your soft hands would 
change if they were put to handling spades 
and stones. After a very long time, and 
many generations had lived and died, the 
descendants of the pygmy horses lost all 
their toes except one. The other toes ceased to 
grow because there was no use for them. 

" That one toe grew harder and rounder as the 
ages rolled on, and as the descendants of the ugly 
little animal with claws had more room and better 
food than their forefathers, they grew more comely. 
Those living on level ground became horses, and 
those living on the hilly, rocky places became the 
hardy donkeys, which carry burdens over moun- 
tains and rocks where horses cannot go. What 
seemed to be evil, ages and ages ago, was only 
working for good in the end. 



213 

III 

" Had not the flesh eaters driven the pygmy 
horses out of the jungles, I am afraid we should 
not have the true horses, the noble animals that 
trot on the hard pavements." 

" But, Uncle Frank," asked the children, " isn't it 
dreadful that the animals have always been killing 
one another? " 

" Ah, that is a serious question," answered Uncle 
Frank. u You have seen how much good comes 
from taking the life of some kinds of animals. The 
great question is, Who has the right to kill, and 
how, and when ? 

" Tigers and wolves have a right to kill and eat 
other animals because the wild cats and dogs are 
flesh eaters. They are made with teeth that cannot 
chew and stomachs that cannot digest plant food. 

" Men, too, have a right to kill animals for food 
and other useful purposes, if they take the life of 
these creatures with the least possible pain. But 
hunting animals for sport is wrong. The shoot- 
ing of pigeons by the gun clubs, merely for sport, 
leaving the poor things in torture, is horrible. 

" Now a word more about your dear friends, the 
biting insects," said Uncle Frank, picking up his 
newspaper and laying it down again. 

" This would be a poor world indeed to train 



214 

good little men and women in, if roses had no 
thorns, if there were no storms and hardships, and 
if all were sunshine, flowers, rest, and no work. 
Difficulty and annoyance are our best friends. We 
should grow lazy and worthless without them. 

" Some of our best lessons are taught us through 
stings and bites. Mosquitoes, fleas, flies, and ticks 
have not yet done their work in the world. They 
are always saying to us, ' Keep clean !' Mosquitoes 
are hatched in still water, and the young are well 
named ' wigglers.' They are restless, lively little 
fellows, and they begin at once to purify the water 
in which they swim. 

" Flies and fleas are hatched in rubbish and decay- 
ing matter. They, with the 
mosquitoes, say to us, ' Keep 
the earth clean ! Drain your 
swamps, and make them 
smile with corn and flowers ; 
keep your streets clean, your 
a Fly seen through a sewers in order, and burn 

Microscope , , . , -^ , . 

your rubbish, by so doing 
you destroy our cradles, and we can pester you 
no longer.' " 

With these parting words Uncle Frank picked 
up his newspaper. As the children slowly and 
reluctantly went away, with many a " Thank you, 




215 

Uncle Frank," his very person echoed the words he 
had spoken, for he was dressed in white linen, as 
clean as the driven snow. 

THE PEARL MAKERS 
i 

Before long you will study geography. Then 
you will learn that the earth is covered with three 
times as much water as land. The rivers, the lakes, 
and the oceans are as necessary to make the earth 
a home for man as is the land. This great quantity 
of water is needed to make rain clouds and to keep 
the air from becoming too hot or too cold. 

But is that all ? What is within these great 
masses and running currents of water? They are 
the homes of countless creatures which furnish 
either food, or useful articles, or beautiful orna- 
ments for men. Nearly all the people of the world 
eat fish, and without fish many peoples could not 
-have lived at all. 

The ocean, like the land, is. not all taken up by 
harmless animals. Big fish eat up little fish, and 
there are great man-eating sharks and devilfish, 
which make trouble in the ocean. 

This story will tell only of some peaceful animals 
of the sea. You know something of our friends, the 



2l6 

oyster and the clam. When the oyster on the half 
shell is on the table, only one thing is thought of, 
that the oyster is good to eat. Who ever thinks 
about the soft, satin mantle, or rain coat, that wraps 
the delicious thing around ? Or who looks at the 
half shell itself to admire the rainbow colors in its 
smooth lining? Or does any one try to find the 
foot (if it has one) or the eyes of the oyster? 







It is true that our common oyster shell has a 
rather dull, sober lining. But there is one kind of 
oyster with a brilliant, beautiful lining which is 
called mother-of-pearl, and in some shells of this 
kind are found jewels of pearl, those pearls of great 
price which for thousands of years have been treas- 
ured like gold and diamonds. 

The finest of these pearl oysters are taken near 
the shores of Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean. The 
precious pearl, when at its best, is round, about the 



217 

size of a pea, and of the softest white. Many 
thousands of pearl oysters may be opened before 
Qne is found which contains the fair jewel. This 
is why the pearl is so costly. 

It is the glory of the oyster that she is more than 
food. She is the mother of the paperknife and the 
elegant cardcase, and of those eardrops of Cleo- 
patra which were valued at nearly half a million 
dollars. The oyster does not know how great an 
artist she is. See, now, how she does her fine work! 





ii 

That delicate satin mantle, 
which causes the oyster on 
the half shell to slip from the 
fork, really builds the shell. 
The young oyster shows the 
shell growing, ring after ring, 
from the mantle, and the rainbow lining is its first 



218 

fine work. Then, sometimes, but not often, there 
lodges within this cloak a grain of sand, or one 
of the oysters eggs. 

This obstruction, which, for the animal's comfort, 
ought not to be there, irritates the mantle and turns 
the oyster into an artist and a jeweler. She gathers 
at this painful point her choicest material, and 
makes a precious pearl. A little suffering brings 
to pass the glory of the pearl oyster. 

Clams, and their near relations, the mussels, are 
of the same class of water animals as the oyster. 
One kind of mussel produces the mother of pearl, 
and occasionally the precious pearl. These pearl 
mussels live in fresh water, and are most abundant 
in the upper Mississippi River. Most of the pearl 
shell used in the manufactories comes from this 
region. 

Among thousands of mussels perhaps one may 
be found which, like the pearl oyster, contains a 
precious pearl. But the chief reason why hundreds 
of men rake the river bottom for these shell animals 
is because the factories want the pearl lining of the 
shells. The mussel itself is not good for food. 

After the shells have been dried they go to the 
shops, where the rough outside is ground away, and 
the inner lining is polished by wheels driven by 
steam. Then the shining material is made into 



219 

buttons of many shapes and sizes; into the inlaid 
backs of expensive brushes ; into knife handles, 
collar studs, and scarf pins, buckles, earrings, and 
bracelets. To think that all this convenience and 
beauty comes from the muddy river bottom, and 
from clams ! 

A rare kind of pearly shell covers the Chinese 
window-oyster. This oyster abounds' near Manilla, 
as well as in other Asiatic waters, and the natives 
of the Philippines use the shell for window 7 glass. 
The shell is very thin, and when ground off and 
polished, printed words can be read through it. The 
window-oyster is one of the marvels of the sea. 

OYSTER AND SPONGE 

i 

A living oyster may be seen at almost any time 
by stepping into a restaurant, but a living sponge 
is rarely seen except by the diver who takes it from 
the bottom of the sea. The two animals are not 
alike in form. In two ways they are alike; both lay 
eggs, and both spend the most of their lives fastened 
to the sea bottom. 

They are also alike in what they do not have, for 
neither of them has bones, legs, fins, or wings. They 
appear to have no weapons to defend themselves 



220 




with. It is best for them, therefore, that they keep 
away from the ravenous rabble of water animals 
with teeth and jaws. 

The oyster has a soft body within a pair of hard 
shells that open and close like the covers of a book. 
That which we call a sponge is a bunch of fine- 
spun, flinty fiber, full of holes. The living sponge 
which the diver catches is more than this. It has 

a coat of soft flesh covering 
all parts and lining all the 
holes of our lifeless bunch of 
springy fiber. Remove the 
hard shell of the oyster and you 
have the soft body for food. 
The fisherman strips off and 
squeezes out the soft body of 
the sponge, and gives you the 
useful and wonderful utensil 
for cleaning. 
A young oyster, hatched from an egg, is called a 
spat. Until it is a week old the spat has a lively 
time paddling itself about by long hairs attached to 
its body. Its only covering is a delicate mantle as 
soft as silk. A shell begins to grow from the 
mantle, and, if still alive, the innocent swimmer 
settles down and fastens itself, perhaps to an old 
oyster shell, on the bottom. 





221 



When the shell has grown around it, the spat is 
at ease. It opens the shell to let in small food 
plants that float in the water, closing the shell when 
danger approaches. But how does it know when 
an enemy comes near? The shell opens, and the 
fringe of the mantle slips out. The eyes are in 
this fringe. They see the danger, and the shell 
instantly closes. In no other way could the oyster 
be safe or be able to preserve and fatten the soft, 
delicate body so delicious for human food. 



ii 



Likewise the sponge is hatched from an egg, and 
with its hair paddles swims gayly away, but not for 
long. It, too, for the sake 
of its life, must get to the 
bottom and make itself fast. 
There it grows, sometimes 
in the form of a vase. But 
how does the sponge get 
its food ? It is an animal 
of a lower grade than the 
oyster, and has no eyes, no 
real mouth, and no stomach, as the oyster has. 

Being so made, the sponge must take the food 
that floats to it in the water. Having no stomach 
to digest what is eaten, the food directly enters all 




222 

parts of its body. Hence its body is full of holes, 
and each hole acts as a mouth to take in food. 
It has these mouths on all sides to catch the small 
plants that float around it. 

Could anything be better for the life of this 
strangely made animal than the frame, or skeleton, 
which finds its way to the drug store and the bath 
room ? It is so elastic, so springy, that it swells 
and opens to take in water and food, and then con- 
tracts, squeezing out the water and what remains 
of the food. Very few animals are so active while 
they are standing or sitting. 

This is the story of the oyster and the sponge : 
The way in which the oyster lives, gets its food, 
and protects itself, is what makes its soft body 
so good for food. The living sponge fills itself 
with water and food, and, if it will, squeezes both 
out. In the same manner the dead sponge in a 
human hand is filled with water and soap, wipes up 
dust and dirt, and throws them out. 

How oysters are raised in beds along the sea- 
coast, and how they are taken and brought to 
market, any oyster dealer can tell you. Find out 
for yourself the many uses of the sponge in the 
house, the stable, the tailor's shop, and the business 
office. The business of sponge fishing is a longer 
and more eventful story. 



223 



DIVING FOR SPONGES 



Sponges live in the waters of the seacoast, where 
the climate is warm. They differ in size, some 
being as large as a man's head, and some as small 




Sorting sponges in the Bahamas 

as a squirrel's. The very large horse sponge grows 
in the Mediterranean Sea, where also the finest and 
best sponges live. The common and coarser kinds 
grow on the coasts of the Bahama Islands and 
Florida. 

The great center of sponge fishing is among the 



224 

Greek islands of the Mediterranean, and the Greek 
people are the most accomplished sponge divers. 
The animals have been taken from about these 
islands for so long a time, and so many more 
sponges are needed the world over, that the divers 
must continually go down in deeper water. There- 
fore the hardships and dangers of sponge diving 
are becoming greater and greater. 

In some places sponges are taken with spears 
and dragnets, but in such fishing there is danger 
of tearing and spoiling the sponges. The Greek 
sponge-fishermen are divers, of whom there are two 
kinds, plain divers and machine divers. 

The plain diver strips off his heavy clothes, hangs 
a bag around his neck to hold his catch, and takes 
a marble slab of forty pounds' weight in his hands. 
He then plunges, head foremost, into the water, and 
is swiftly carried to the bottom by the weight in his 
hands. A cord is fastened to him, which is also 
tied to the boat from which he dives. This diver 
seldom, if ever, remains five minutes under the sur- 
face of the water, for he must hold his breath all 
the time. 

The machine diver is inclosed in a water-tight 
dress, fitted loosely to his head, arms, and legs. 
The part covering his head is of metal, and has 
openings set with glass, so that the man can see 



225 

while under the water. A very ugly-looking ogre 
is this diving suit. It is called a machine because 
its parts are made to move. Air is pumped into 
it from the boat above through a long rubber hose. 
A signal cord connects the diver with the boat. 
Besides articles for gathering the sponges, he carries 
a lance to fight sharks with — the man-eating sharks 
— very large and ferocious fish, with huge mouths 
and terrible teeth. These enemies have learned the 
ways of the diver, who often hears their dreadful 
cluck when he strikes the bottom. This diver 
sometimes stays under water fifteen minutes. 

ii 

Sponge divers, whether naked or in diving suits, 
feel that they take their lives in their hands when 
they go down, as they sometimes do, ninety feet 
under the surface of the water. They act the part 
of heroes. They must be quick about their work. 
Much depends on the effort of a few minutes. 

The risk of life and the dangers are so many and 
so fearful that before the divers begin their day's 
work religious services are held ; and women and 
children, with sad faces, bid good-by to husbands, 
fathers, and brothers who are making ready to dive. 

Sharks are not the only enemies of the diver. 
The swordfish sometimes attacks him, and the 

MOM . ANIMALS 15 



226 

sponge itself is infested with a worm which stings 
the bodies of the naked divers, wounding them as 
if by the point of a sword. Then, too, the diver 
suffers from the great weight of the water pressing 
upon him, so that he is often stricken w r ith paralysis. 
Many hundreds of Greek divers lose their lives in 
this dangerous business every year. 

It takes something of a hero to be a sponge 
diver, and this, perhaps, is what makes the work 
fascinating in spite of its difficulties and dangers. 
A large number of the Greek people on the islands 
are engaged in this kind of fishing, and the highest 
ambition of every boy is to be a diver. 

The boys, as soon as they can toddle in water 
and swim, begin to leap and plunge into the sea. 
They practice staying under the surface and hold- 
ing their breath the longest possible time. As they 
grow older, they go out in the boats with the sponge 
fishers, and take turns in sinking down to the 
sponge beds, in the regular fashion of the old diver. 
At twenty years of age, if he is expert, the young 
man becomes a regular sponge diver. 

Families all over the civilized world use sponges, 
but few ever think of the cost at which they get 
these comforts. Soon after the sponges are brought 
to the fisherman's boat they are beaten so as to 
loosen the flesh from the skeleton, and are then tied 



227 

into bunches and allowed to trail in the water as the 
boat moves homeward. After the catch is sold, the 
sponges are sent to factories, where they are thor- 
oughly cleansed, clipped, sorted, and made ready 
for use. 

THE DESPISED EARTHWORM 

i 

Throughout the whole year the Bonny Club had 
met nearly every week, except during the school 
vacations. Mary Burns had contrived to make 
each meeting interesting by mingling study, play, 
and music. She was industrious and quite advanced 




for a girl of her age, but she always acknowledged 
that she had been greatly helped by her mother 
and her teacher, both of whom were deeply inter- 
ested in nature study. 

The last meeting of the year was a red-letter day, 
as Mrs. Burns, called it, referring to the old time 
when a festival was marked with red letters in the 
almanac. The programme of exercises cannot be 
given here. It is enough to say that it pleased the 
children. Of course Tony Grant was there. 



228 

Tony was like all other children. Though he 
was with animals every day, he did not know how 
necessary they are to human life until he was called 
on to answer questions. After that he took new 
interest in his animal companions, and began to put 
questions to his intelligent father. He was notified 
that the earthworm would be discussed at this meet- 
ing, but Mary said beforehand that Tony would 
know nothing about the earthworm except that it is 
good for fish bait. 

And so it proved. Tony, however, knew as much 
about this subject as many older people. Indeed 
he uttered contempt for the animal, and said that 
his chickens would not touch it unless they were 
half starved. But earthworms are to be seen in 
the city; and as Mrs. Burns and the children were 
walking on the pavement, which was bordered with 
grass, one crawled on to the path before them. 

It appeared to be about eight inches long, but 
when Johnny touched it with his finger the worm 
drew itself together in a second like a Japanese 
lantern. It was then not half so long and much 
larger around. Having taken it home, they watched 
it again, and could see the rings which composed its 
body. Placing it under a magnifying glass, they 
could see, attached to each ring, very small hooks 
which serve as feet and help the worm to move. 



229 

At this meeting of the club Mrs. Burns was led, 
by Tony's remark, to say something about the use 
of the angleworm, as the earthworm is usually called, 
for fish bait. " This fish bait of Tony's,' 7 she said, 
" is a very lively thing, as all fishermen know who 
dig in the ground for it. They find it in rich, damp 
soil where it eats dirt that is mixed with decaying 
vegetable matter. To get food and moisture it 
burrows holes everywhere in the ground. 

ii 

" Angleworms are not apt to be found where the 
soil has become worn out and poor from long rais- 
ing of crops. This is the case in a large part of 
New England. But the very states where the 
worms are scarce contain the favorite fishing re- 
sorts of sportsmen. Where, then, shall the anglers 
get their bait ? This was a serious question with 
hundreds of fishermen until a shrewd man in 
Maine started an angleworm farm. A queer idea, 
w r asn't it? 

" One thing you have learned. When men keep 
animals for profit they must do for them many 
things which the animals did before for themselves. 
Tony gets more eggs and chickens by providing 
the fowls with food, and by hatching the eggs in an 
incubator. In the same way the man in Maine 



230 

managed the angleworms. By feeding them he 
saved them the labor of burrowing in the ground for 
food. He built in the ground large reservoirs 
lined with cement, which made them smooth and 
tight, so that the worms could not crawl out. He 
had drains to carry off the waste water, and pipes 
to let in fresh water, for these worms cannot live 
except where there is moisture. 

" How did he provide food for them ? Instead 
of filling the reservoirs with dirt, he filled them with 
old bran from the grain mills. In this material the 
worms had no hard boring to do, and they were as 
happy as pigs in clover. Besides the bran, thev 
were fed with grass and lettuce. The worms had 
nothing to do but to eat and to lay their eggs. 

" The result was that the angleworms increased so 
fast that soon there were millions of them. After 
they were full grown they were packed alive in wet 
moss, and were shipped wherever there was a de- 
mand for them. But this use of angleworms seems 
very small when compared with their great work 
which Mary is going to tell about." 

Yes, Mary had prepared an essay, which her 
teacher had corrected to make it express just what 
Mary wished to say. And here is that part of the 
composition which describes the greater work of 
the earthworm, after a paragraph of introduction. 



m 

in 

" The little men and women of the Bonny Club 
have learned how nearly all kinds of animals are 
working for us. We cannot by ourselves make wool, 
skins, feathers, horn, ivory, pearl, silk thread, meat, 
milk, eggs, or honey. These things are made for 
us by sheep, cattle, chickens, pigs, elephants, oysters, 
caterpillars, and many other animals, but it re- 
quires the work and skill of men to make the gifts 
of animals fit for use. 

"Among the very small animals that help us is 
the silkworm ; but the most wonderful of all, 
whether big or little, is one that we despise and 
don't like to touch. It is the earthworm, and the 
boys use it for fish bait. They call it the angleworm, 
because fishers are called anglers. What does it do 
for us ? Or what has it done for the world ? 

" The farmer cannot raise corn or wheat unless 
he first plows the ground, and the ground could not 
be plowed, nor would anything grow in it, if it were 
not loose and rich. Earthworms make the ground 
loose. They burrow holes in it to make their nests, 
and to find food and water. They eat the dirt 
which contains vegetable food and then cast it out 
at the top of the ground, thus raising the ground 
higher. In this way they have covered a large part 
of the earth with rich soil. They arc the makers of 



232 

soil in which the plants grow that are food for 
larger animals. 

" Earthworms were the first plows. They plowed 
with their sharp, gimlet noses and invisible feet long 
before the Egyptians used pigs for plows. Even 
now they often throw up, in one summer, a quart 
of rich soil on every square foot of a large garden. 
They do more than this. By burrowing under 
large stones they help them to sink below the reach 
of the farmer's plow. We are told, moreover, that 
the ruins of ancient cities were buried in this way 
by earthworms. 

" So we must feel thankful to these humble and 
despised crawling creatures. They have made the 
earth's surface rich and smooth. They deserve 
more praise than all other animals, because they 
have prepared the earth for plants, animals, and men. 
All the soil that makes plants grow has passed 
through their little bodies. Without the earth- 
worms there would be few trees, and no grain, no 
fruit, no animals of the land, and no men. 

" A great man, Mr. Darwin, says, ' It may be 
doubtful whether there are many other animals which 
have played so important a part in the history of the 
world as have these lowly creatures.' " 



MAR 7 1903 



